Last Stand of the Freedom Fighters
by Loopy777
Summary: After they met the Avatar, but before their leader Jet would encounter Zuko in Ba Sing Se, something happened to break the Freedom Fighters up and send them out into the world. This is the story of their last battle, and their last moments as friends.
1. Prologue

**Prologue**

_An old man led children through the land of the dead._

_The forest of Gaipan had burned down decades ago, and many parts of it still had not recovered. Certainly, grass and small brush had returned to the lands, feasting on the nourishment hidden in the dry ash, but the massive trees that had once characterized the region were all gone. In the colder times of the year, the Gaipan Forest had once been famous for its sea of reds and orange that had stretched as far as the human eye could perceive._

_Now all that was left were a few dull stumps, standing like tombstones beneath an empty sky._

_The Old Man- for that was what he inevitably came to be called wherever he went- led the children through the reminder of devastations past. He leaned on a tall walking stick, left unshaped and unstained, the one piece of healthy-looking wood in the entire province. He was dressed exactly the same as the children; in a mix of colors and odd articles of clothing that were past their prime. However, the Old Man carried himself as though he wore a dress uniform from a great nation's victorious military, somehow standing tall despite a bowed back._

_The children trailed obediently. They trusted the Old Man without question._

_Too bad he wasn't so confident in himself. "Hm, I think this is the right way to the river. I don't recognize this place at all, but that doesn't mean I haven't been here before."_

_The children nodded. That made perfect sense to them._

_The Old Man kept walking, while the line of children stretched out behind him. The Old Man's slow pace exactly matched the youngsters' trotting, though whether it was by nature or design was long past discernable. He kept glancing behind himself at the line and so noticed when one of the children, a tiny girl, stopped to stare at something in the distance. "Hold up, little ones."_

_He ambled over to where the girl had taken up station. "What has young eyes so enraptured?"_

_"What's that?" She pointed into the distance._

_"That? Hm, give me a second to focus. That? That is… Hm. Ah." The Old Man was still for a long moment. "Well, I suppose that's something you can be allowed to see. Come. Come, all of you." He led the children to the object, his feet automatically finding the long lost path, his stride surer and quicker than usual._

_The object was a moss-covered slab, roughly as thin as the girl who had spotted it but twice again as tall. It was very crudely shaped, any smoothness marred by random facets. There might have been writing carved on the front. When the Old Man reached it, he touched it with a gentle caress, before falling to his ancient knees and weeping._

_The children murmured to each other. They had never seen an adult cry before, but then, they didn't know many adults._

_It wasn't long before the Old Man got control of himself again. "Do you want to know the story of this stone?"_

_Tiny heads nodded._

_"Well, long ago, this land used to be a forest. I remember it being a very big, very nice forest. The leaves were beautiful. There was a war going on, just like in the stories. Bad people wanted to rule the world, and good people fought to stop them. Some of those good people lived in this very forest, and they made fools of the bad people, attacking them and then disappearing like ghosts into the leaves. They called themselves the Freedom Fighters, and they became legends. But all stories have an ending, and this one was sad. The worst of the bad people came and burned the forest down. The Freedom Fighters gave the fight of their lives, but they couldn't win, and soon enough they started dying. By the time the forest had burned to the ground, the Freedom Fighters were no more. This stone is to memorialize the best of them, the ones who died as heroes._

_"This is how I remember the last stand of the Freedom Fighters…"_

**THE BEGINNING...**


	2. Lords of the Forest

**Lords of the Forest**

On the Eastern tail of the Earth Kingdom's massive Saengsun Island, in the fertile Jogak Dak province, the forest of Gaipan was truly a sight to behold. Like much of the Earth Kindgom's wilderness, the trees there dwarfed all of the constructions of man (save the Walls of Ba Sing Se) and extended from the peaks to the coasts. The province was cut off from the rest of the island by a mountain range, and surrounded on three sides by water: wide rivers in the east and an ocean in the west. Perhaps that is why the forest had never been exploited or encroached upon. Despite its treasures, such an isolated province held no allure to any but the humble.

Of course, that didn't apply to the Fire Nation. The Fire Lord wanted to control _everything_.

There was little resistance when the Fire Nation came to Jogak Dak. The people there were mostly farmers and poor merchants, and not one of the various villages had a militia that could stand up to anything but gangs of bandits. As soon as the Fire Nation arrived, most people simply surrendered and got on with their lives. Certainly, some folks valued the notion of patriotism and spoke out against the invaders; some even took up their swords and went looking for a fight. The Fire Nation responded in a typically efficient manner, applying force to every problem and implementing the most _permanent_ viable solution.

People died, but not many. The survivors mourned. Colonists arrived to settle the empty lands. The Fire Nation military established a permanent presence to keep the peace and make sure that they got their cut of the land's bounty. In the town of Gaipan, named for the forest that surrounded it, the Earth Kingdom natives came to grudgingly accept both their military overlords and new civilian neighbors as a fact of life.

In the forest itself, the evils of the Fire Nation eventually bore fruit, and a much less tolerant group dedicated themselves to seeing the invaders expelled from the land.

No matter the cost.

They called themselves the Freedom Fighters, but then, that's a popular euphemism.

* * *

Jet awoke that morning to the taste of cool air. Of course, this late in the winter, that wasn't anything odd. Normally, his Freedom Fighters valued food and weapons above all else, but when it got this cold, blankets and cloaks became a treasure all themselves. Jet, though, wasn't really bothered by the cold. It was a unique taste on every breath, but no more unpleasant than any other kind.

His feelings for the Fire Nation provided more than enough warmth.

Taking another deep breath to invigorate himself, Jet clawed his way to alertness. He rose from his bed without any sluggishness, ran a hand through his shaggy hair, and moved out of his hut to meet the world. The colors of the Fire Nation surrounded him as he stepped through the door. This forest had an interesting quirk: the trees never dropped their leaves. In most other places, cold weather brought the transition from green leaves to yellows and reds and oranges, followed by the falling that left the branches skeletal. The Gaipan Forest, though, never experienced that last step. The leaves changed colors, but stayed on their branches, unless torn off by winds or storms. In the spring, the leaves came to life again, shining verdantly amidst all the new flowers.

Some said that the forest was Spirit-touched. Opinion seemed divided equally about whether this was an omen of good or bad fortune, but everyone agreed that it had been this way for the last hundred years. Jet didn't pretend to have an opinion on any of that.

The leader of the Freedom Fighters looked around his home, the haphazard village that sprawled across the treetops, to see if anyone else was yet awake. A few of the younger members were up and about, including the pair in charge of the cooking. Also, at the edge of the main platform, one small child was practicing with a quarterstaff in the warming light of the rising sun.

Jet walked over to greet his friend, The Duke.

* * *

_"This, children, is how I remember Jet: he was the vision, the brains, and the voice. He was a hero in every way, except for his actions. He could talk to anyone, and genuinely charm even the most belligerent skeptics. He could manipulate people easily, but only did so for what he truly felt was the greater good. He was brave and he was deadly. He was everything we wanted to be, and everything we feared to become. Appropriately, he wore a strange mix of clothes and armor, colors of all kinds, a mess that shouldn't have been anything but which became a whole simply because of the way he wore it._

_"He was our leader, and we trusted him._

_"Everything about him was part of his crusade. His chosen weapons were the tiger-head hooked swords. They could grab his enemies, and cut them. They could stab and push them. They could also pierce the giant trees and let him climb like a cat. They could grasp the branches and swing him into flight. They extended his reach, but could still defend him even at the closest range. They must have been difficult for him to learn._

_"They also looked really neat._

_"Jet always impressed. He fooled even the greatest heroes of our generation, but how could it be otherwise?"_

* * *

The Duke was good with the staff. Even if Jet hadn't seen his skill in battle before, this latest demonstration left no doubt. The tiny Freedom Fighter handled his weapon gracefully, letting its momentum make up for his lack of strength, sweeping around him as though to ward off attackers, rising up and cracking down as though striking an enemy. The staff was easily double The Duke's height, but that didn't seem to inconvenience the boy.

That is, until Jet got close.

The Duke was twirling the staff in front of him, moving it so fast that all Jet could see was a blurred disc of wood hovering in space. Then there was a crack that echoed in the winter air, and the staff was torn from the boy's grip and bounced into the sky. Jet easily caught it as it came down again, and leaned it towards The Duke. "Gonna have keep working on that trick, but it looks great."

The Duke too his weapon back and smiled at the praise. "Thanks. It's a new trick, but I think it's mostly for show. Hitting someone with it would probably just pull it out of my hands again, and I can already hit people pretty hard."

Jet stepped over to the edge of the platform, and looked down. The forest floor was only just getting its first taste of sunlight. "Hey, don't discount the benefits of looking good," he said. "Intimidation is a big part of how the Freedom Fighters make war. If a bunch of soldiers surround you, spinning like that would be a good argument against any of them moving in. But, it might work better if you get a shorter staff."

The Duke frowned thoughtfully. "But this is the same size as Aang's."

"Aang?" Jet turned to look at The Duke.

"Sure," the younger Freedom Fighter said with a shrug. "I gave him some bang pellets, so he offered to teach me some moves. That spin is one of his."

"Huh," was all Jet could bring himself to say to that.

The silence hung in the cool air for a moment after that. Cold is the worst kind when it comes to unpleasant hushes.

The Duke started doing some wind-down stretches. He bent over to touch his feet and said, "How come Aang and his friends left, anyway? I never really got that. I mean, I know it was disappointing that we blew up the dam for nothing, but they didn't have to leave. We could have tried something else."

Jet wondered what he could say to that. Whatever some people, like Katara the oh-so wise companion to the Avatar, might say, Jet didn't like to lie. He wanted to tell his friends the truth, but the truth was so hard to put into words.

Then Jet looked at the red leaves around him, the leaves that never fell, and found his inspiration. "What happened was that the Avatar didn't like the plan in the first place."

"What was wrong? It almost worked."

"They didn't like it because they didn't want to hurt the Fire Nation."

The Duke stilled, and turned his quizzical gaze to Jet. "Why not?"

"They aren't angry enough." Jet motioned towards the treetop base behind them. "We fight because we're angry at the Fire Nation, so mad at what they did to all of us. The Fire Nation hurt the Avatar and his friends, too, but they weren't angry enough about it. Without anger, all they feel is sick about it, and sick people don't want to fight. They don't want to do anything, right?"

The Duke nodded.

Jet smiled. "So, they just want to hide away, like everyone does when they feel sick. They don't have the strength to keep fighting, to really do what they have to keep the Fire Nation from hurting anyone else. And, honestly, I don't blame them for that. It was wrong the way they tried to mess up the plan, but they have good hearts, and I think they'll come around some day. Maybe they need to get hurt more before they can get angry enough." The leader of the Freedom Fighters raised his eyes to the leaves above. "It has to be an anger that never goes away."

The Duke was obviously thinking hard about that, judging from the look of concentration of his face. If he had more questions, though, he didn't get the chance to ask them. Two small children, kids too young to be real Freedom Fighters, came over with some steaming bowls on trays.

Jet searched his memory for their names, and in the cold morning air, it took him only a second to recall everything about them. "Hey, Hibachi, Sparkrocks. Thanks for the breakfast."

That was how these kids earned their keep. Hibachi was about the same age as The Duke, but he was much more awkward, and didn't worry himself about the necessities of war. Instead, the boy had a rather uncomplicated view of the world- archers were the best, and Longshot was the best of them all. Hibachi wore a blue tunic just like Longshot's, and even found himself a rice-hat. Both were far too big for the kid, and Jet was glad he hadn't tripped and spilled the oatmeal just now. But then, the morning was young. Sparkrocks was a little older than her partner, and dressed much more sensibly in a red tunic that she had scrounged out of some captured Fire Nation supplies. She wore her hair in a ponytail to keep it from falling in the food she prepared; after that first incident, Smellerbee had made it clear that she while she may live in a tree, there were some standards that couldn't be compromised.

"You're welcome, Jet," the girl said.

"We made it yummy today," Hibachi added. "Used the last of the brown sugar!"

"Hey, a nice treat," Jet said. "Just be sure to save some for Smellerbee and Longshot."

"Longshot?" Hibachi had stars in his eyes as he repeated the name.

Sparkrocks gave her friend a look, and then turned back to Jet. "Where are they? I thought Morning Patrol was later."

The Duke looked up quizzically from his breakfast. That's right, he probably wouldn't have known about that, either.

Jet grinned confidently. "The Fire Nation has been putting out some extra scouting efforts. We're just adjusting the shifts to teach them why we don't like that."

* * *

Scout Akaishatsu moved silently through the forest. He did not wear the typical armor of a Fire Nation soldier, instead swathing himself in a mix of mutilated civilian clothing, all a slightly different shade of red or orange that wasn't entirely unlike the immortal leaves on the trees around him. Considering his prey, Akaishatsu needed every advantage he could get to remain undetected. The colors helped him blend in, but the mish-mash of clothes provided an even more helpful kind of camouflage; the patches, missing arms and legs, and random wraps broke up his profile, turning him into something that didn't at first glance appear to be shaped like a human.

He kept his knives in their sheaths. Their blades were sharpened obsidian, formed from the lava back home in the Fire Nation, and they were dangerous to handle, even by trained professionals.

There was no point in pretending to be a civilian, in these parts. The local criminals were known for beating and robbing old travelers who were unlucky enough to be caught in the forest alone. There were documented cases of even worse things happening to Fire Nation colonists who wandered around here without their wits about them, but those incidents were less famous. Dead men tell no tales, after all.

The war was intensifying all over the Earth Kingdom with the Avatar's return; even in slower times, the Fire Nation typically didn't have the resources to deal with local bandits. Bandits, though, didn't bomb dams and attack major civilian centers. The troublemakers had upgraded themselves from criminals to rebels, and Akaishatsu had made a career out of finding insurgents so that the full fury of the Fire Nation could fall on their heads.

The scout walked in an odd, slow manner, keeping each foot in the air for a minimal amount of time and shifting his weight only when both feet were on the ground, maintaining a soundless and steady forward momentum. He moved carefully around every bush, pile of leaves, and patch of loose earth, careful not to leave any evidence of his passing.

At the same time, he was on the watch for any such signs ahead of him, clues that would lead him to his nation's enemies. It had been in this area that several supply convoys had been attacked. According to reports, the ambushers had dropped from the treetops.

Akaishatsu made sure to look up often.

As such, he almost missed the danger at his feet.

The face was dark, tanned and dirty as though it had spent the day doing hard work out here in the forest, and had been painted with red stripes going diagonally across the cheeks. The hair atop it was coarse and frizzy, forming an unshaped blob. Akaishatsu didn't recognize it as human until it was too late.

He wasn't even sure if it was a boy or a girl. The child jumped out at him after realizing that it had been spotted. Swords- _good _swords, of Fire Nation construction- were pulled from their sheaths, and Akaishatsu spotted even more blades strapped to the child's black clothes and brown armor.

Akaishatsu knew this was no mere child. He pulled his obsidian knives from where they were strapped to his arms, and charged forward.

* * *

_"This, children, is how I remember Smellerbee: she was the fiercest of the Freedom Fighters, always one of the first into a fight. She was even more of a blademaster than our leader, although she never realized it herself. She didn't specialize in any one type of weapon, instead teaching herself how to fight with all kinds of swords- dao and jian- and knives of all sizes and functions._

_"It was easy to forget that she was the only girl to be taken on as a Freedom Fighter._

_"She often lamented that she was easily mistaken for a boy, due to her rough appearance. I hadn't yet learned to judge girls by their appearance, out there in the wilderness, but in retrospect I don't think she had anything to worry about. It was more that people didn't expect such toughness from a girl. She was the only Freedom Fighter to wear heavy body armor, but she didn't let it slow her down one bit. With such speed and grace, she could have been a dancer, but she found more useful outlets for her skills._

_"She wasn't just a warrior. She was our thief._

_"She could sneak up on anyone, even an experienced Water Tribe hunter. She could put a bell in the pocket of a sneaking soldier without being seen, or remove the coins from the saddlebags of any traveler who passed through our forest. More than once, she even planted 'evidence,' putting a knife or throwing star in the possession of someone we needed to be seen as an enemy._

_"Smellerbee was a good friend to our leader, whether or not he deserved it."_

* * *

Akaishatsu's only hope was to quickly close the distance to his opponent so that his swords would be too cumbersome to effectively fight with, and his knives would be in range for short, fatal jabs into important veins or organs.

The only problem was that the little monkey easily ducked below his arms, twirled to the side in a move that very suddenly increased the gap between them, and casually swung a sword out to knick his arm right on the wrist. Akaishatsu hissed in pain and reflexively dropped one of his knives. When he turned to face the little ragamuffin again, he had the swords up and ready for another attack.

So Akaishatsu threw his remaining knife at the child and ran. He heard it clang against what was probably one of the child's swords, but it didn't matter. The only point of the move was to distract his opponent long enough to provide a head start. While he ran, Akaishatsu reached into his pocket for a something important: a small tube of hardened paper, filled with blast powder, with a string trailing out of one end. All he had to do was yank the string, throw the tube into the air, and it would ignite into a blasting flare that would summon the Firebenders who were supposed to be providing him support. Then they could deal with the 'Freedom Fighter' on his tail.

If only he could find the stupid flare! He could have sworn it was in his pocket.

Since he didn't look behind him as he ran, there was no way he could have seen his attacker casually examining it in her hand.

Akaishatsu ran on, but, as distracted as he was, he was still alert and familiar enough with the forest to avoid tripping over any stray branches. As such, it came as a considerable surprise when his foot hooked against something thin and hard, and he tumbled to the ground in a mess. Akaishatsu looked around, spotted an arrow protruding out of the ground right where he had tripped. Remembering his training, he finally looked up.

The shape was actually fairly man-like, clothed in what was mostly a plain blue tunic that stood out vividly against the colored leaves of the squat tree. Nevertheless, the figure had stayed so still, Akaishatsu's eyes passed over it several times before realizing that it didn't belong.

When Akaishatsu finally noticed, it took a second to realize that the figure was holding a drawn bow, with an arrow pointed directly at his face.

* * *

_"This, children, is how I remember Longshot: he was both the quietest, and the most colorful of the Freedom Fighters. His tunic was blue and white, like a member of the Water Tribes. On his head, he always wore one of the cone-hats that farmers throughout the Earth Kingdom favor. Around his neck, he wore a shawl of red Fire Nation silk, but he was far from the only Freedom Fighter to display such a trophy._

_"He was our archer._

_"Of course, in my memory, he never missed a shot, and was able to place, draw, and fire two arrows at once, faster than I could blink. It's hard to say how good he really was, since he was the only one in our group who could use a bow. He tried to teach a few of us, of course, but archery is much harder than it looks. You have to remain completely still, moving only the parts of your body that are required to fit the arrow and draw the bowstring. You have to have excellent vision, because the most useful archers are the ones who can hit a target from the farthest away. And you have to know how to breathe._

_"You have to know to pull air into your lungs as you pull the bowstring back. You have to be able to hold that breath, without moving, while you make the final adjustments to your aim. And you have to know to let the air out, easily and without motion, as you let the arrow fly._

_"Is it any wonder that the young man who didn't talk was the greatest archer I can remember?"_

* * *

Once the Fire Nation scout was taken care of, Longshot conferred briefly with Smellerbee and then headed straight home by himself. She would handle the clean-up.

The treehouse village of the Freedom Fighters was always bustling. No one had ever taken a full count of its population but it certainly wasn't anywhere as large as the nearby town of Gaipan. At best, perhaps thirty people made their homes in the rugged huts and tents that wrapped around the trunks of the twisting trees, with more than enough space leftover to hide away stacks of food and other supplies.

The reason the rope bridges and wooden platforms were bustling was because the entire population consisted of children and teenagers, and those ages were notorious for all the spare energy they imparted.

In Longshot's opinion, though, things had been a bit quieter in recent weeks.

The teenager let the rope and pulley settle to a stop before he stepped onto the treetop platform. He kept moving, heading straight for another line that was stretched diagonally into the distance. Longshot grasped the handles of one of the rope-runner wheels and let it carry him out into the open air. It was always a thrill, traveling through the leaves like this, giving up the last links to the ground and sailing through the wind. It never failed to delight new arrivals to the hideout, and had especially delighted the Avatar.

The Avatar hadn't stayed long.

Too quickly, Longshot reached the main platform and let his feet reconnect with the solid wooden planking. A pair of kids- Hibachi and Sparkrocks- was dragging out a crate of flour from the supply shed to the cooking hut. Longshot waved at their greetings, but kept moving towards the largest hut, near the center of the wide platform.

That was where Jet lived.

* * *

Hibachi was still just standing there, staring at the door to Jet's hut, while Sparkrocks struggled to move the crate on her own. The ponytailed girl tried taking a classic horse stance and shoving. She tried running in place with her head mashed up against the crate. She even tried laying down and kicking it with both legs. Eventually, Sparkrocks elected to take the path of least resistance and slapped her partner's shoulder. "Hey, move your butt. Don't leave me to do all the work here!"

Hibachi turned to her and stuck out his tongue. "I was trying to figure out what was bothering Longshot. He didn't look happy."

"How," Sparkrocks asked with a roll of her eyes, "can you tell?"

Hibachi crossed his arms over his chest and glared at his partner. Between the oversized blue robe and the beat-up rice hat, the intimidating effect was completely ruined. "_Anyone_who pays attention to Longshot can figure out how he feels. He's a great communicator! Like just now, the skin around his eyebrows is a little tight. That means he's worried."

Sparkrocks smiled and pointed at her own face. "Hey, see this?"

"What?"

"The way evil spirits are flying out of my nose? That means I'm going to throw you off this platform if you don't help me move this crate!"

"All right, all right." Hibachi shuffled over and began putting his back into moving the crate. "I think it's time for you to cut back on the bark-tea."

"Ha, ha," Sparkrocks grunted, joining him at their chore. The crate of flour scraped smoothly along, finally reaching the cooking hut. The girl straightened gratefully, and shook her ponytail off her shoulders. "So, what do you think has Longshot so scared? He's one of the top fighters, and if he's scared-"

"Longshot don't get scared!" Hibachi stomped from around the other side of the supply crate, promptly tripped in his robe, and splayed out over the floor. By the time he scrambled back to his feet and pushed his hat back up out of his face, Hibachi had a good scowl worked up. "Longshot's the most greatest Freedom Fighter ever!"

"I think The Duke is pretty good. He's smaller than us, but he-"

"Longshot's the greatest!"

"Smellerbee can-

"Longshot!"

"And Pipsqueak-"

"_Longshot!_"

"All right! Enough! I was just teasing!" Sparkrocks sighed, and looked back at Jet's hut. "You think it had to do with that secret mission no one will talk about? The one that made the Avatar leave?"

Hibachi's serious shrug was her only answer.

* * *

Jet took the news without reaction. He stayed sitting on his bed, not even meeting Longshot's gaze until the archer had finished his report. "You're sure he wasn't just scouting for another convoy? Maybe we can hit them for a good haul."

Longshot gave a small shrug, but couldn't stop his head from shaking in the negative.

"Yeah, I don't believe it, either," Jet sighed. "They're finally coming after us, aren't they?"

Longshot raised both of his eyebrows. The Freedom Fighters were the only obvious target in the whole forest.

"Well, that's something we can still deal with. This forest is _our_ base, and they'll never find us before we find _them_. They may have the numbers, but we have the brains, the ability, and the advantage."

Longshot nodded agreeably. It was too bad that they were in this situation, but the Freedom Fighters would deal with it. Jet had never let them down before.

Probably.

**TO BE CONTINUED**


	3. Coming of the Fire Ogre

**Coming of the Fire Ogre**

When Commander Oni arrived at the town of Gaipan, he found a disaster. Of course, that was exactly what he had been expecting.

The town itself was still cleaning up the damage from the terrorist attack. By this point, the debris had all been removed and the reconstruction had begun. Most of the more permanent buildings- owned by the colonists, of course- had stayed standing, but there were walls to repair, furniture to replace, and water marks to clean or paint over. The more transitional structures, like the merchant stands that had once narrowed the streets, all had to be rebuilt and replaced.

The main problem was not a lack of will to fix what the rebels had ruined, but a means by which to _fund_ the work. More than a few households had lost everything they owned in the engineered flood, and carpenters couldn't put food on the table through goodwill alone. In Oni's estimation, based on the briefings that came with his latest orders, the town would suffer complete financial collapse within six months, and most of its denizens would leave in search of backbreaking labor work.

He'd be doing everyone a favor by putting the region out of its misery.

Oni led his group of subordinates straight to Gaipan's local garrison. He ordered his troops to make camp on the riverside. They could always seize billeting in the town itself after he took formal command of the situation.

In short order, he was within the plain office of the garrison's commander, decorated solely by a portrait of the Fire Lord. Oni had never been one for pleasantries, so after he had bowed in greeting he immediately handed over the scroll he had carried straight from the front. "Your orders, Commander Fei."

Fei had been looking at a map of the entire Gaipan region spread out over a long table, marked with what looked like incomplete trails. He glanced back at it as he took and unfolded the scroll. "…Replace me? But I've made so much progress analyzing the terrorist attacks! We have them narrowed down to a Southeastern quadrant-"

"Well," Oni interrupted, disgusted by the bewildered look on the other man's mustachioed face, "I'm sure that information will be of use to me as I deal with this outlaw threat once and for all. Thank you for your service."

Perhaps Fei had heard of Oni, which wouldn't have been surprising, given his next question. "May I ask what is it you intend to do about the situation, Commander? I fail to see how we could be doing anything different here. I'm using all the recommended tactics for tracking down hidden rebel groups. I have scouts out there right now, narrowing down the possible locations of the enemy camp."

Oni smiled pleasantly. "It was decided that a creative new strategy was in order, of a nature in which I happen to specialize. High command is tired of losing supplies in this region, and this latest act of terrorism has convinced them that a show of force would be the most appropriate action. The people have to learn what happens to those who think they escalate a fight with the Fire Army."

"So, I repeat, what is it you're going to do?"

"Burn down the entire forest." Oni could feel his smile turn genuine and he would have had to admit that he was excited and enthusiastic about his job. Whatever some might think of his methods, he took real pride in using his unique intellectual gifts to their fullest. "Thanks to your efforts, though, we now know to focus a cordon on the Southeastern quadrant. Bodies aren't really needed for this demonstration, and I'd prefer the rebels to die in the home they've worked so hard to conceal from us."

Fei's face wheeled through several expressions that finally ended with something like professional horror. "But what about the town? Their trading depends on the bounty of the forest…"

"Tell me, Commander, what's the breakdown of Gaipon's population? Fire Nation colonists versus natives?"

"We've never been quite sure. We never took a census."

"Oh?" Oni turned to one of his subordinates, the one he always thought of as the Rice Counter. "Before we begin the formal evacuation, see what you can do about isolating anyone who can prove Fire Nation colonization rights. We'll try to give them a bit of compensation before we cast them out."

"Commander Oni," Fei said, a touch of growl coloring his voice. "You know as well as I do that very few colonists in this region keep a hold of their official papers, never mind all that was lost in the recent attack! You'll be ruining the lives of our people, right along with the Dirts."

Oni spun to face the other commander, eyebrows scrunched together. "Such racism is not becoming of a professional soldier, Commander Fei. Kindly do not use that word in my presence again. Now, was there anything else before you make preparations for your departure? I believe they'll soon be expecting you in the Hu Sin provinces."

Fei was still for a long moment. When he spoke, his voice was slow and even. "On the grounds of Honor, I must protest this treatment of the people whom it is my duty to administer and protect. I challenge you to an Agni Kai, Commander Oni."

Oni bowed formally. "I understand, and your challenge is accepted. I feel it my duty to warn you, though, that I have fought and won twenty-three Agni Kai duels, all of them fatal."

* * *

They decided that the match should be held on the opposite side of the river, where all of the assembled soldiers could see. Oni insisted on this point, just to make Fei angrier.

It wasn't that he especially disliked Fei, or enjoyed making trouble, but Oni wanted this Agni Kai to be done right. Too often, losers of the duels were allowed to survive, either with a ceremonial injury or merely the loss of pride. Certainly, it made sense to let the losers live in a mostly functional capacity, so that they could continue to serve the Fire Nation. The problem was that Oni liked what he liked, and when so few things gave him any real pleasure, he was less inclined to deny himself what fun he could find.

Commander Oni enjoyed killing people.

It wasn't a compulsion, and didn't affect his life the way a sickness would. It was simply that he thrived on personal combat, on warfare, on the ultimate struggle to survive. Taking someone's life in the course of the ardent fighting was the most basic and final victory. No matter the trappings of society, it was always possible to reach out and end a life.

Oni was very grateful that he had been born in a time of war. Killing was not only allowed, it was _rewarded_. Granted, some of the Generals disliked his methods, but there was no arguing his success rate in otherwise troublesome situations. High Command knew that when they needed something destroyed, they could count on Oni to get it done without fail, with no concerns besides the successful completion of his mission.

In war, concerns like protecting civilians, preserving resources, and fighting honorably just sometimes got in the way. Pushing through that was Oni's specialty.

Fei would fight with the true anger that was the heart of all Firebending, and Oni would have no choice but to finish the duel in a fatal manner. He did not doubt that he would win; angry people made mistakes, and all the anger in the world couldn't overcome a cool willingness to do anything to win.

* * *

Being a Freedom Fighter was pretty cool, but when you were the smallest Freedom Fighter, you did what you could to be useful. Like learning how to fight, despite being the same age and height as the orphans who did chores around the treehouse all day. Or becoming an expert at the use and deployment of Fire Nation explosive materials, despite not being able to read. Or knowing how to put on an innocent face, hide your helmet, and wander into town to see what the latest news is.

No one ever accused The Duke of being anything less than a real Freedom Fighter.

Jet had asked him to sneak into Gaipon, to see what kind of activity was going on at the garrison. That was simple enough. In the Time Before The Freedom Fighters, The Duke had been forced to survive by any means necessary, stealing what he needed from whomever had it. Being sneaky and invisible was the best method. The Duke found that his hair was dark enough, and his features neutral enough, that he could pass for either Fire Nation or Earth Kingdom. He didn't wonder about how that could be, he just worked with it. People didn't pay attention to a dirty little ragamuffin who looked like any number of orphans sleeping in the local streets, especially one so short. As long as he didn't make a fuss, he was invisible.

The Duke wandered into the town of Gaipan, and followed the crowds.

The townspeople were clearly on their way to something; the masses were all moving in the same direction, and Jet would want to know where they were going. As he trotted along with the crowds, The Duke could see the leftover damage from the flood. The tallest buildings had water lines just beneath their roofs, and there were obvious empty gaps in the rows of buildings where something with less stable foundations had been swept away. Some homes no longer had doors, and the apartments within were almost always completely empty, save perhaps for a dirty blanket here and there.

Jet had said that the flood was the right thing to do. He had said that The Duke was really clever, to figure out how to place the explosives so that the dam could be destroyed in a group of simultaneous blasts. Jet had promised that it was something that had to be done, that the lives lost would be the price of defeating the evil Fire Nation once and for all.

But The Duke could see that some of the people around him were wearing green.

_But_ Jet always kept his promises to The Duke.

The people were gathering at the town's riverside wall. The entrance was clogged with dawdlers, so people were climbing the scaffolding around the patched section of the wall and perching atop it. Most of the more daring climbers were of obvious Fire Nation stock, but The Duke was used to high places, too. He scampered around and between adult legs, and scrambled up the scaffolding without appreciably slowing down.

Atop the wall, he could see a large group of Fire Nation soldiers assembled across the river. Two of them were shirtless, and standing at opposite ends of the clearing. Squinting, The Duke thought he recognized one of them as the local garrison commander, but he hadn't seen the man enough times to be sure without the uniform. The young spy had no idea what all this was about until the half-naked men started Firebending at each other.

The Fire Nation people fought each other? That made sense. The Freedom Fighters always stuck together, and they were good, so if the Fire Nation was evil, they probably killed each other all the time.

It certainly looked like they were doing it now.

The two men were constantly in motion, their battle cries echoing all the way to the town as they sent whips and waves of fire at each other. What flames couldn't be dodged were pushed aside with waving motions of arms and legs. Both men were putting a lot of effort into the fight, but even The Duke's inexperienced eyes could tell that one was clearly superior. The mystery man, the one with no hair on his head or face, kept up a constant pace of movement, never retreated, and shifted from offense to defense with ease. As he closed the distance with his opponent, the garrison commander picked up the pace of his attacks without improving his effectiveness. The bald Firebender met a sustained blast of flame with one of his own, and the two streams of roiling fury converged in a fiery swirl. It came as no surprise to anyone, fighters or audience, when the fireball exploded.

The suddenness of the crack made The Duke jolt involuntarily, but he kept his balance on top of the wall.

Back in the arena, the unknown Firebender ducked low, withstood the billowing heated air of the blast, and dashed at the garrison commander. The latter settled his stance and tried to take a defensive posture, but before he was fully in place, his opponent was in arm's reach.

The mystery man chopped his hand so fast that it looked like a blur to The Duke. The Firebender didn't actually bother with fire for this blow; his stiffened hand swung horizontally and slammed into the garrison commander's throat.

The match technically ended a long minute later, but it was that blow that finished the fighting. Immediately after he was struck, the loser collapsed to the ground, clawing at his throat, and began thrashing in the dirt. He must have been having trouble breathing. As time passed, his movements became more frantic.

The other man just watched, breathing heavily, his gaze fixated on his dying opponent.

Eventually, all movement ceased. Only then did the duel's winner turn to look at his audience across the river. His shouting was unnaturally calm, and The Duke could hear his words clearly.

"I am Commander Oni of the Fire Army. This entire region, the forest and everything within it, has been declared an Enemy Stronghold. As soon as possible, we will be taking measures to eliminate the cowardly terrorists who tried to destroy your homes. For your safety, we will be evacuating you beyond the forest to make new lives as you can, beginning early tomorrow morning.

"Tomorrow, _it will all burn_."

The Duke's first thought was that this was definitely bad news. The second was that he had to let Jet know _now_.

* * *

It was never good when kids had to see something like a fatal Agni Kai, but something about the urchin's fleeing triggered Private Duoxin's suspicions. "Hey," he said to a couple of the other Fire Nation swordsman working crowd control. "Let's make sure the kid gets home safely."

"It takes three of us to do that?" one of the others snorted.

"Well," Duoxin drawled, "didn't the briefings say that the convoys reported the terrorists looking like _kids_? Can't hurt to check, you know?"

The trio secured their swords, and trotted after the child.

* * *

Two Freedom Fighters sat in the forest and talked. The larger of the two had dubbed himself Pipsqueak, and he leaned against the trunk of a giant tree. His smaller friend was known as Sneers, and sat cross-legged on a low branch. They had been sitting in silence for some time, but Pipsqueak eventually spoke, his voice so deep that it could have easily been the sound of a thousand Avatars growling at once, "Been a while since we had rain."

Sneers shifted on his tree branch, to the sound of creaking leather and armor. His own voice was husky and wild, but soft in its own way, like the waving of leaves just before a storm. "Yes. Things are pretty dry. I worry about what mischief the Firebenders might be up to, in these conditions."

"Aw," Pipsqueak said, "now that you've said it, we're definitely gonna have to fight some." He lifted the heavy club at his side and began picking splinters off of it.

The other young man turned to quirk an eyebrow at his companion. "You don't seriously believe that talking about something bad makes it happen. That type of stuff is for _villagers_."

"All I know is I've seen a lot of bad things happen, and it doesn't take much to get more bad stuff happening. Why risk talking about it?"

"Listen," came the simultaneously amused and exasperated reply, "I can personally guarantee that we won't fight any Firebenders today. Most of the guards around here aren't Benders, and The Duke is good at getting in and out of town without being spotted. Everything will be okay."

"Sure, easy for you to say now. You've already brought the bad luck down." Satisfied that his club was once again smooth, Pipsqueak set it down within easy reach.

"My friend, if I have caused us any ill fortune today, I promise I will give you all my lychee nuts at dinner tonight."

"_All _of them?" The deep voice rose in hopefulness.

"All of them."

"Well, that's all right then."

Sneers frowned. "You've been teasing me, haven't you?"

"Maybe."

Both were silent again for a little while, and then Pipsqueak spoke once more, his deep voice low and soft. "Hey, what is a leader supposed to do?"

Sneers gave him a wary glance. "Lead?"

"I mean, how? What's a leader really supposed to do?"

The other sat quietly for a long time, turning that over in his head. "I believe a leader is like a guide through the woods. A leader offers a path, and helps navigate its dangers. It is the leader's responsibility to deliver her charges at the destination, safe and whole."

Pipsqueak smiled at that, but could not maintain the expression; a thoughtful frown pulled at his whole head. "So what path are the Freedom Fighters on?"

It was then that the relative silence of the forest was broken by a loud, frantic warble from a cockathree bird.

The bigger young man stood up. "That was him?"

The smaller one untangled his legs, and let himself slide to the ground. "Probably, but he was supposed to be using the sparrowkeet call."

Then the screech of a scared little boy trying to sound like a scared eaglehawk pierced through the air.

"Let's go," Sneers decided. In an instant, both were dashing through the forest brush. By the time they arrived at the sound of the birdcalls, The Duke had breathlessly moved on to a robinjay's warble as he ran for his life.

When he saw his friends, he changed direction towards and shouted, "Three stupid guys with swords followed me!"

"Hey!" called one of the swordsman, who were hacking their way through the brush as they chased the youngest Freedom Fighter. "Who are you calling stu… pid…" He trailed off as he laid eyes on The Duke's backup.

Pipsqueak straightened his back, rising to his full height, and hefted the chopped tree trunk he used for a club. "You're pretty stupid if you think I'm gonna let you hurt my friend."

* * *

_"This, children, is how I remember Pipsqueak: he was a mountain of muscle just barely shaped like a man, with a voice that could have shook the Earth if he ever felt the need to shout. He wore a single, massive disc of armor over his chest that was as big as I was tall at the time but still couldn't fully cover him, and he left his powerful arms, machine-like in their strength, bare. He wore a piece of red headgear he stole from the Fire Nation, a training-guard that protected his temples, but it was not injury in battle that he feared. He was taller than most adults, and constantly had to beware doorways and branches that stood far taller than any other Freedom Fighter._

_"He was our own gentle giant._

_"As big as he was, everyone expected him to move slow, but nothing was further from the truth. His strength propelled his arms with the speed of a striking scorpion-snake. He could duel a swordsman with his club, and outdo his enemy every time. He didn't run much, not more than was absolutely necessary, but when someone needed help, he never hesitated to act. For there are two types of big people in this world, the bullies and the protectors, and Pipsqueak lived to be a protector to all._

_"He also had a good sense of humor. Just think of his name! He was fond of jokes on himself, and never failed to admit when he had been pranked. He loved committing pranks himself, both the big kind like waterskins placed above doorways and the small kinds like some teasing or a trap of words._

_"He was quick to forgive any trespass, and didn't even know how to hold a grudge. That made him far too trusting."_

* * *

Pipsqueak swung his club like a lumberjack swings an ax. That he naturally swung at what was head-height for most people made it _especially_ scary. Two of the swordsmen raised their weapons reflexively; some primal portion of their brains perhaps expected the metal blades to somehow block or damage the wood, but if so, those brain nodes weren't particularly good at physics. The pair of swords were ripped from the hands that held them, but they didn't _quite _move fast enough. The weapons that landed in some distant bushes were curved to a degree that evoked a particular smoothed tree-trunk club.

Both soldiers ran like the Face-Stealer himself was after them, but it was too late. They tripped over a small The Duke-shaped bundle that was kneeling right behind them, which went on to steal their helmets and knock them on their heads before either soldier could figure out which way was supposed to be considered Up.

The third swordsman was already gone. Private Duoxin was the smartest of the trio, and as such had been able to quickly evaluate enemy capabilities as soon as Pipsqueak came into view. Duoxin had reviewed his own skill with the sword, as well as that of his two compatriots, and came up with a sound tactical decision. That the chosen strategy consisted entirely of running for his life did not make it any less viable or smart.

The only flaw in the plan was due to incomplete intelligence on the enemy. He had no idea that Sneers had followed his large friend into battle.

* * *

_"This, children, is how I remember Sneers: he was not the quietest of the Freedom Fighters, nor the quickest, nor the cleverest, nor even the most versatile. He didn't like to stand up when Jet was heaping praise on him at our dinners. He, more than anyone else, lived for his function. He wore many pieces of body armor, favored only dark natural colors, and even his captured Fire Nation trophy was a warm shawl that he could wrap around himself during the winters. He never cut his hair, but kept it bound in a knot that let it hang loosely just around his face. He never bothered learning a weapon, because he turned himself into a one. It didn't matter if he was fighting Firebenders or Weapon Masters, he could defeat a group of them with his bare hands._

_"Sneers was a man of the forest._

_"He was the only Freedom Fighter who had been born in our forest. He lived there his whole life. He was the one who showed Jet the paths and the secret lairs. He was the one sleeping in a tree when everyone else camped on the ground. He picked the spot for the treehouse base, and strung up the ropes that connected everyone's homes. Jet was our leader, and all the Freedom Fighters advised him as needed, but it was Sneers whose word he would always follow, because if the situation was so important that Sneers felt the need to make his opinion clear, he was talking with the voice of our home._

_"I don't know what his part was in the creation of Jet's plan to flood the valley and kill everyone in it, but it was Sneers who would always carry new orphans up to the treehouse village for the first time._

_"The Freedom Fighters seldom spoke of the histories that led to our taking up arms against the Fire Nation in that forest, and some never revealed their full past at all. Sneers' past was all around us, and even though no one knew what had happened to his family or home, we could all sense the truth of it with every breath we took. The Fire Nation sought to control the forest, and Sneers could not be controlled._

_"He was Nature, capable of both great gentleness and great harm."_

* * *

Duoxin brought himself to a skidding halt when some of the bark on a nearby tree detached itself and took the form of an armored teenager. Sneers held up a hand. "Stop. I cannot let you leave this place with news of our spy. Your best chance is to surrender, and give up the ways of your nation. Then we can discuss mercy."

Duoxin didn't quite like the sound of that, and besides, he had a sword while the boy was completely unarmed. As a well-considered rebuttal, he drew his weapon and made a stabbing charge at Sneers.

Sneers gracefully sidestepped at the last moment, grabbed his enemy's wrist with one hand and twisted it, while his other hand seized Duoxin's elbow and held it stationary. When the resulting pain came to a stop, Duoxin realized that he had compulsively dropped his sword. Still, the wild boy was nearby and not making any additional moves, so he added to his argument a very good hammer-fist aimed at the boy's exposed face.

Sneers didn't move, instead simply bringing his right hand up to backhand Duoxin's fist out of the way, and then quickly shifted forward to turn his left hand into a spearhand blow right at the top of Duoxin's throat. It wasn't delivered with any great strength, but it was enough to set Duoxin choking and cause him to stumble back in his panic.

Sneers stayed with him.

Grabbing Duoxin by his chest armor, he easily flipped him overhead. Duoxin barely had time to lose all sense of direction and gravity before it loudly reasserted itself when his helmeted head slammed into the ground.

By the time he felt well enough to look around again, Sneers had been joined by Pipsqueak and The Duke. He nodded grimly and told his companions, "The soldier declined our mercy. I'll finish with him."

* * *

Around sundown, an officer interrupted Commander Oni on the garrison's training grounds during one of his regular exercise bouts. "Sir, you asked to be informed of any irregularities. Several of the town's standard guard patrol spotted a suspicious child in the crowd and followed him into the forest. They checked in right before they left, and haven't been seen since. This was just after… uh, the Agni Kai. The one you… uh, won."

Oni remained in his handstand, arms solid and unyielding. He was clad only in a pair of breeches, but the air of late winter did not have an affect on him. "Thank you. I don't suppose there are any leads as to where they disappeared?"

"We only know where they entered the forest, sir."

"Ah. Well, I wasn't expecting much more than that. Please assemble my staff in the command room. We can assume that the rebels know of my plans, and we need to strategize accordingly."

"Yes, sir. Will you be wanting to arrange a search for the soldiers?"

Oni frowned, and even upside-down, it did not look anything like a smile. "Of course not. Those soldiers checked in like they were supposed to, and now we have a good clue as to what the enemy knows about us. That is of far more value than their lives ever were. I have already begun operations that might be compromised by such a search." He shifted his weight, and let gravity drag his feet back to the ground. Sweat evenly coated Oni's bald head, shining dully in the light of the torches that were the courtyard's only illumination as the sun fell away. "See to my staff. I will be joining them as soon as I am cleaned and dressed."

The meeting went on long into the night. Oni outlined the broad strokes of his plan to general approval. Some of his subordinates had their own suggestions for simultaneous plots that might hasten their victory, including one farfetched plan from the Rice Counter that was more creative than plausible, and Oni gave his clearance to everything for which he could spare the resources.

He was a strong believer in overwhelming force.

**TO BE CONTINUED**


	4. War of the Plans

**War of the Plans**

Like most things in the treehouse base of the Freedom Fighters, dinner was a largely vertical affair.

The main table was set up every night in the large communal platform just outside Jet's hut. It was a small table, scavenged from the nearby town when the group was still fairly small. As the number of Freedom Fighters, and the children in their care, grew, there was talk of getting more tables, or of letting people eat on the floor around the one they already had.

Jet, of course, found an alternate solution that would let everyone feel included. More platforms, large enough to accommodate a few friends, depending on the size of the kids, were constructed above and around the table, turning it into a kind of stadium. The Freedom Fighters sat and ate at the center. Everyone else could watch them and listen to their talk, cheering when appropriate. There was a little extra room at the table now, which allowed the Freedom Fighters to sometimes bring guests to sit with them, or, more often than not, to recline as they ate instead of sitting properly.

Hibachi and Sparkrocks had claimed a small platform just a few tiers above the main table. Word was that Jet would be giving a show tonight.

Sparkrocks popped a roast acorn into her mouth and gave a small sound of approval. She was one of the kids in charge of soaking acorns in vats of collected water to remove the bitter ickyness, so she always enjoyed them once they were cooked up. "I bet Jet ambushed another convoy today. He's gonna tell us how great all the Freedom Fighters fought. Maybe one of them brought home a helmet I can have."

Hibachi shook his oversized sleeves free of his hand and plucked a bit of fish off his plate. He hissed at the heat, and carefully placed it in his mouth. "Ooh," he cooed as he chewed, "do you think they got more of those jelly candies? Those were great!"

"If they got any food, they probably would have brought it to us, first," Sparkrocks said. "Maybe they didn't hit any convoys, after all. I didn't see anyone bringing supplies back."

Hibachi considered that, but his line of thought was interrupted when he noticed one of his sleeves flopping into his applesauce. "Agh, messy!" He shoved the tails of both sleeves into his mouth, sucking them clean, and then noticed the disgusted look Sparkrocks was giving him. He slowly pulled his sleeves out of his mouth, and pushed them up. "Longshot was in and out of Jet's place, and then a while later Sneers brought The Duke in to talk. I betcha they're looking for something, like, maybe some buried treasure or something."

"Maybe," Sparkrocks drew out as she thought, "they were looking for the Avatar."

Hibachi threw an acorn at her. "No! The Avatar left, and the Freedom Fighters don't take no quitters!"

Sparkrocks was about to stand up and give her partner his acorn back, in a most uncomfortable manner, when she noticed a silence falling upon the whole assembly. "Hey," she whispered, "Jet is starting."

Both kids scooted over to their platform's edge and, sure enough, the leader of the Freedom Fighters was stepping up onto the central table. That was the last reason why the Freedom Fighters preferred to keep their table uncluttered, at its center.

The table was Jet's stage, and he worked a crowd like no other.

* * *

_"I never remember Jet the same way twice. He was our leader, and we trusted him. Did he betray that trust? Sometimes I think he did, sometimes I wonder if I was too hard on him. He helped make us into Freedom Fighters, but was that for our benefit, or his, and does it matter either way?_

_"I will question my thoughts on Jet until the day I am no more."_

* * *

Jet stood on the table, looking up at all the kids eating their dinner around him. He'd been feigning a relaxed attitude all night, but his mind had been working furiously. It wasn't just for the plan they'd need over the next few days, but also for this speech. It might be the most important rally of the Freedom Fighters' careers. He had to make sure everyone was on board for the last big push. None of his plans would work out if they weren't all in this together.

That's what being a Freedom Fighter was all about.

"Everyone!"

Everyone hushed at Jet's call.

"Everyone, tonight is very special! We've all worked hard, fought the Fire Nation with everything we have. We've beaten their soldiers, stolen their food, and harassed anything they tried to bring into our forest. We haven't let them relax for one moment! Not one moment while they take our land, our homes, our families away from us!

"Well, tonight we can finally sleep easy for the first time. Everyone, _we have won!_"

There were gasps. Even the Freedom Fighters seated at his feet were confused by his words. On the platforms above him, chattering broke out, and amongst the younger children, cheers. The victory shouts carried to some of the older kids, but didn't quite take over.

That was fine. Jet didn't need cheers yet, and hadn't expected them.

"Today, the Freedom Fighters risked themselves to bring back the best of news. Longshot and Smellerbee protected our home from the _spies_ of the Fire Nation, and when they told me about the scouts they _humiliated_ and _defeated_, I knew something was going on."

Cheers rose up for the quiet boy and the armored girl, and both waved back with smiles on their faces. Jet was glad they were enjoying this, as they were good soldiers- hardworking and loyal- and times had been tough lately. They deserved some happiness.

When the applause died down, Jet continued. "The Duke snuck into the town of Gaipan, all by himself. Surrounded by the evil of the Fire Nation, he searched out the answers that no one else could have found. For that, for trying to find out what horrible things they want to do to us next, the Fire Nation tried to _silence The Duke!_ They sent three of their swordsman to put an end to him, but if there's one thing the Fire Nation is too _stupid_ to ever understand, it's about good people."

Jet theatrically hoisted a fist into the air. "_We can always count on each other!_ Sneers and Pipsqueak helped The Duke show those people that Freedom Fighters fear _no sword_!"

Once again, applause and shouts of approval rang out from above. Pipsqueak happily caught the lychee nuts that were playfully tossed to him, while The Duke waved from his seat.

That was odd. Usually, The Duke ate up this kind of attention like Jet himself. Perhaps he was nervous about the coming battles. He had good reason to be, but Jet would make sure that he did everything in his power to make sure everyone came out okay.

"And do you know what The Duke learned, in that blight on our forest?" Negative calls sounded. "My friends, he learned that we have won our piece of the war. _The Fire Nation is leaving! The whole town is emptying, and the land is once again ours!_"

There was a hush, a void that smothered every noise. Then the group erupted. Jet had been careful to keep this news to himself until now; only The Duke had known what was coming. Even the other Freedom Fighters were shocked, and theirs became the noisiest jubilation.

Jet didn't wait for the sounds to die before he continued. "The Fire Nation is emptying Gaipan! All that will be left are a group of soldiers who are going to make one more cowardly attack before they go. They think they can burn this forest down, that if they can't have it then no one can!"

Everyone was listening again. Time for the big finish.

"But _we_ are the forest! Are we going to let the Fire Nation burn us? Have we _ever_ let the Fire Nation burn us? _No!_" Jet wasn't alone when he shouted that last word; everyone else had joined him. "We just have to win one more battle, and then the war is over. _And we have never lost a battle!_"

The noise that followed could probably be heard miles away.

* * *

Up on their platform, Hibachi and Sparkrocks cheered with the rest of the kids, their dinner forgotten. The former might have been calling out Longshot's name with disproportionate frequency, but his enthusiasm was no less for his single-mindedness.

* * *

After dinner, The Duke came to Jet in his hut. Some of the Freedom Fighters liked to decorate their homes with trophies, and a lot of the kids tended to accumulate interesting stones, sticks that looked like swords, and other makeshift toys, but Jet's hut was surprisingly boring. He avoided decorations and mostly kept things purely functional, but he had two oddities in his setup. He slept on a real bed with a mattress of hay and curtains that hung from the ceiling. Next to the bed was a short cut of a tree trunk that functioned as a table. No one could have known, but it exactly matched the basic setup of the bedroom Jet had back when he was growing up with his family. His father had made the bed and nightstand himself. The only difference was that this bed was hanging, instead of resting on the floor, but Jet slept more peacefully when he wasn't connected to the Earth.

Jet smiled at The Duke. "What's up?" he asked in as welcoming and friendly a manner as he could muster.

The Duke shrugged. "I'm just a little worried, I guess. You sounded so serious about us winning, but it looked like a lot of Firebenders were coming after us, and that bald Oni guy looked _tough_."

Jet leaned forward and patted the smallest Freedom Fighter on his helmet. "I understand. It's good to worry, because it keeps our minds sharp. I worry all the time, and it helps me think of everything I need to when I make my plans."

"Do you have a plan to save the forest?"

"I do." Jet picked up his long grass stem from his table, and casually bit down on it. "We don't have the dam to store water anymore, but whoever this Commander Oni is, he's got the typical Fire Nation arrogance. They'll wait until all the townspeople are gone before they try to light us up, and we'll watch them and attack them before they can really get anywhere with the idea. Maybe take out that Oni if he leaves himself vulnerable, or we can scare his soldiers into not setting foot into the forest."

He smiled at The Duke with one part calm, two parts arrogance born of confidence. "I promise, I won't let them hurt any of us."

Once The Duke was on his way to bed, Jet stepped out and went to see Sneers. His hut was even sparser than Jet's, but the fact that half the floor was missing, letting Sneers sleep in the smooth crook of the supporting branch, and half the ceiling, leaving only Sneers' makeshift bed protected from the rain, gave it a much more exotic appearance. The young man looked up as Jet entered. "Need something?"

Jet pulled his straw from his mouth. "Let's make sure we have an eye on that town, all right? Get as many people out in the forest as we can and have them watching that town from every angle. Without the dam, we're on the edge of a knife here."

"Will do," Sneers said with his rough voice. "G'night."

* * *

That night, Oni started a group of soldiers working on a construction project. They evicted people from several carefully chosen buildings, telling them to seek shelter with friends or sleep in the streets. The soldiers toiled within the buildings; careful to cover the windows and leave the roof and all exterior walls intact, yet nothing inside was preserved. Walls, stairs, floors, furniture; everything was broken down and either turned into raw materials or discarded.

Oni made sure he stayed up to personally oversee the work, that first night. If his troops couldn't sleep, Oni wasn't going to, either. He visited all the construction sites. The soldiers themselves made sure they never looked on his cold expression or caught his fierce eyes.

* * *

_"I hope I'm not letting things get too complex for you, eh?" Plenty of widened little eyes looked back at him. The Old Man had to suppress a chuckle at how carried away he was getting._

_Then a little girl, the same one who had first spotted the lone stone they were visiting, raised a hand. "You keep talking like maybe the Freedom Fighters are sometimes kind of bad, but they're fighting the bad men, aren't they? The Fire Nation wants to burn the forest and the people's homes."_

_The Old Man nodded, and gazed up into the sky above. He squinted in the bright sunlight, before hastily looking down at the ground. After he had gathered his thoughts, he spoke again. "Real war is a lot different than the games you play. Killing the bad guys is good, right?"_

_All the little heads nodded._

_"Now, who here actually likes to hurt people? Likes to make people cry, or hurt them so that they can't play and have fun anymore?"_

_One little hand in the back raised, accompanied by a cheeky grin, but one look at the Old Man's serious face cast a shadow over the fun, and the hand and grin both disappeared from sight._

_"Sometimes, the bad guys aren't as bad as you're told they are. Sometimes, they're fighting because they think they're the good guys. And when two people who both think they're good wind up fighting each other, only good people wind up getting hurt. The only bad people are the ones who enjoy hurting each other."_

_"Like Commander Oni!" the same little girl from before said, pleased with herself._

_The Old Man smiled. "Yes, Oni was a horrible person, and deserved to get hurt. When it came to people like him, we probably needed people like Jet. But the Freedom Fighters were beginning to learn that Jet wasn't always right. If he could make mistakes, turn even the Avatar against him, then what was he turning the Freedom Fighters into?_

_"Can you imagine how hard it must be not to trust someone you treated like a parent? Not to be able to trust your best friend?"_

_Little eyes widened._

_The Old Man sighed. "The worst part about war, though, is that the bad guys do most of the winning, when it really matters._

_"So! The time had come for the Fire Nation to win and for the Freedom Fighters to go out in a blaze of glory! Both armies- one big, one little- got ready to go to war one last time..."_

* * *

The morning was anything but still and quiet. The sun was barely up, and any movement in the brush was hidden, but there was plenty of noise. Of course, birdcalls were very common for mornings in such a large forest, but knowledgeable locals would have been surprised at the variety this day. Certainly, it was the completely wrong season for the mating call of the plumed pinkbird, and there weren't supposed to be _any_ turtleducks in the whole province.

Jet listened to the faux-natural symphony, and turned to his Freedom Fighters with a smirk. "The Fire Nation is on the move."

"Where?" Smellerbee asked as she made one last check of her knives.

Jet listened for confirmation, then quickly nodded. "The riverbed path. They're heading deeper into the forest with a large cart of barrels."

That caught The Duke's attention. "What kind of barrels?"

Jet raised his eyebrows. "We didn't exactly come up with a birdcall code for that kind of info, but I'm guessing they're not full of dirty laundry. I bet that's their plan. They're taking blasting jelly as far into the forest as they can get it, and then they'll set off a explosion that will get a large patch of the forest burning."

Longshot's eyes narrowed beneath his hat, his mouth forming a thin line.

"Don't worry, Longshot." Jet pulled his grass stem from his lips and tossed it to the platform floor. "We're the Freedom Fighters. We got this."

Pipsqueak crossed his massive arms over his chest. "Hit 'em hard, hit 'em high?"

"Hey, it hasn't failed yet, right?"

Sneers gazed out at the forest, and said nothing.

* * *

"I wish I could go see Longshot kick Fire Nation butt," Hibachi sighed. He gripped his rounded hat through his oversized sleeves and adjusted it against the morning sun.

Sparkrocks waited until he was done, then she smacked the hat off his head and plucked its flying form from the air.

"Hey!" the boy wailed.

Sparkrocks ran laughing to the cooking pit where stacks of Fire Nation ration cakes waited, holding the hat behind her. "That's what happens to bad little boys who throw acorns at me! Come on, we have to make breakfast for all the others."

* * *

Jet could see, already, how it would all play out.

Smellerbee would be hidden near the dry riverbed, and would turn back so that the others could see her hand; signaling about fifteen soldiers, spearmen and Firebenders, standard formation, a komodo rhino to draw the cart. The element of surprise would be maintained. Dispersed through the branches of the nearby trees, the other Freedom Fighters would be hidden by the undying orange and gold leaves that smelled of warming weather, but Longshot would be kept right next to Jet, his bow drawn and an arrow ready. Jet would pat his friend's shoulder and point at the spearman steering the komodo rhino.

Longshot wouldn't even nod. Jet had seen it enough times; he would inhale, aim, and let loose his arrow. The rider would fall. The Freedom Fighters would attack.

Then they would fall into their standard tactics. Jet would swing down first, drawing attention with his challenging gaze and dual hook swords, and throw himself at the nearest group of spearmen. The rest of the soldiers would be perfectly distracted when The Duke dropped directly onto one of the Firebenders' heads, grabbing him by the helmet and either bringing him along for the rest of the trip to the ground or else riding the man and making the Firebender a danger to his fellow soldiers. Smellerbee and Sneers would dart out of the undergrowth on either side of the road, cutting off the individual enemies who would be trying to come at Jet from behind. As some of the army gathered into a group for protection against the ambushers, Pipsqueak would land heavily from the tree where he had been hiding and demonstrate why he was the Freedom Fighters' reliable backup.

Jet dashed across the oversized tree branches in his forest, lost in his planning while he led his Freedom Fighters to the scene of the ambush. Regular fake birdcalls kept him appraised of the Fire Nation cart's slow progress, so that he could head directly to the ideal ambush point. Not all of the orphans who lived in his treetop village were Freedom Fighters, but everyone helped in whatever ways they could, even if it was to hide in the forest and spy on the enemy.

Then things went completely wrong. Jet and the others were still traveling when they heard the blowing of a standard Fire Nation signal horn. Its hollow call sounded into the forest.

It was answered by the noise of multiple instances of Firebending. An orange glow quickly began shining through the thickness of the leafy foliage.

"Nuts," said Jet.

Then the trees around him burst into flames.

Jet quickly looked around to find his teammates. He spotted Smellerbee and Sneers fighting someone on the forest floor, their battleground surrounded by burning foliage, and it took Jet a second to realize that their opponents were a group of Firebenders, but not wearing the standard Firebender armor. These soldiers were wearing hardened leather vests, but that was their only concession to the need for armor. The rest of their uniforms were that black flame-resistant weaving that the Fire Nation loved, easy to move in and very prudent for Firebenders. Rags tied over their hair and mouths substituted for the infamous skull-like helmets.

Who were these guys?

Whoever they were, more were coming, as additional horn calls gave away Smellerbee and Sneers' position. Both of the Freedom Fighters danced and scampered across the battlefield, never staying still long enough to give the Firebenders a chance to hit them with a sustained blast of flame. Both at least had a better chance against unarmored opponents. Smellerbee's swords ripped right through the mesh-uniforms, and Sneers' punches and grappling took advantage of the material's softness and pliability.

Pipsqueak and The Duke joined the fray, guarding the others' backs. Pipsqueak was being his typically effective self, and even when one of the strange Firebenders set his log-club ablaze, he just shoved the burning end into the face of his current opponent, twisted and threw it at a second, then picked up a third and began using the man as a human club. The Duke was taking full advantage of his size, swinging his staff low to trip the Firebenders while staying down and out of immediate sight.

Longshot, of course, was covering everyone from the treetops, and so far no one had discovered the source of the arrows.

Jet was just about to come to the others' aid when he spotted a new group of Fire Nation soldiers arriving. These were all swordsmen, wearing their proper armored uniforms, except for one man. He wore a commander's armor, and his head was completely free of hair.

Oni. The Duke had told Jet _all _about him.

Jet stepped backwards off the branch he was standing on, swung his hook swords to catch the wood right where the blades curved, and let gravity turn his momentum into a slingshot fall aimed right at the Fire Nation commander.

Just before he landed, Jet threw his legs out, kicking a swordsman in the head on either side of him and taking them out of the fight. As soon as his feet touched the ground, Jet was swinging his swords down and inward straight at Oni himself, but if the man was surprised by the attack, he didn't show it. Oni immediately took a stabilizing stance and brought his armored gauntlets up to catch Jet's blades, then swung his arms down and outward in a mimicry of what Jet had just done to slap the Freedom Fighter's arms away.

Jet stumbled back, and saw Oni prepare a fist for what looked very much like a Firebending move. He wouldn't have time to dodge this one-

Then Jet's view was blocked by a swordsman with his blade held high above his head, and Jet knew he would be all right. He got his hook swords up in time to catch the attack, and was all set to slide his blades so that the hooks would catch on his enemy's weapon and pull it out of his hands, when-

Fire blossomed behind the swordsman, and he fell to the ground screaming. Oni was still there, his expression dark. "No one gets between me and an opponent," he growled at his other guards.

Jet didn't stay to see what their response would be. He was already moving to dodge the next blast of flame. "Your mistake," Oni said, his tone conversational even as he pressed his attacks, "was never altering your tactics. Just because the previous commander lacked the imagination to really exploit your routines, didn't mean that you shouldn't keep things varied."

Jet didn't need advice on how to lead his friends. He spun around an arc of fire that came from Oni's latest kick, and just swung one of his swords at the Fire Nation man's head, at the same time tucking his other arm and sword in preparation for a follow-up attack.

Oni again deflected the blow with an armored forearm. He didn't even let the cutting edge of the blade directly impact the armor, instead angling his defensive blow to change the direction of the sword's momentum. "We know the general area of the forest where your base is, and my special Firebender Scouts know how to move through a forest as secretly as your own people." He tried to duck low to sweep a kick at Jet's legs, but the Freedom Fighter leader jumped up, his leap taking him into a spin that brought the hooks of his swords swinging at Oni's back as he flew over his enemy.

Unfortunately, the man's armor was good stuff. The blades scratched along the surface, doing no more than scoring it. Jet landed and spun to face his enemy, just as Oni rose up again and turned to look at Jet.

The Firebender smirked. "When we heard the chirping 'birds,' we kept an eye out on the treetops, where your people so like to spring ambushes from. How do you like being on the receiving end of a trap, hm?"

Jet was tired of the man's talking. He launched into a sustained attack on Oni, alternating between his left and right swords in order to keep the assault quick and constant, but it didn't matter. None of his blows got through the commander's defense, and even in armor the movement didn't seem to tire the Firebender at all. As they moved across the forest floor, Oni steered the fight towards one of the burning trees, and just when Jet thought he saw an opening in the man's defense, the commander leaped backwards to land a few feet within the flames of the blaze. Jet stepped back from the heat of it, but Oni, apparently a Firebender, didn't mind being at the edge of the inferno.

Safe where he stood, Oni pointed up at the sky. "Have you seen the best part yet?"

Jet looked up, where the fires had not yet climbed, and through the ever-living leaves of the canopy, saw odd trails of smoke crossing the clear sky. Then, a large fireball flew across the view, heading in the same direction as the other trails.

With a clenching of his stomach, Jet realized that the fireballs were being shot in the same general direction of the Freedom Fighters' base. He looked back at Oni in alarm.

The Firebender smiled amidst the flames, his eyes dark in comparison to the light all around him. "We can't precisely target your home, of course, but how long before the forest in that direction goes up in fire completely? You were good, protecting your home from all the scouts sent to find you, but you could only be so effective with your lack of manpower. The Fire Nation has resources to…" He winked. "Burn."

Jet's leadership instincts told him exactly what to do.

He began running like crazy. "Freedom Fighters retreat! _Get out of here! Run! Disengage!_"

Those Firebender Scouts might know their woodcraft, but the Freedom Fighters were still more at home in this particular forest. They all produced Bang Pellets from hidden pouches and flung them at the ground. It was one thing being used to staring into fire without flinching, but any alert human being will flinch at the sudden appearance of extra sight and sound.

When the Firebender Scouts recovered their sight, the Freedom Fighters had disappeared without a trace.

_Mostly_without a trace.

Commander Oni began signaling his troops in pursuit.

* * *

The Freedom Fighters didn't stop running until the lights of the fires were far behind them. They climbed a gnarly tree and spoke behind the cover of the canopy.

"What's the deal?" Smellerbee spat. "Freedom Fighters don't run!"

Longshot looked at her, eyes wide, but didn't make any motion. Jet outright glared at her. "They do," he said, "when they're about to die!"

Pipsqueak wasn't looking at anyone. He was working at one of the thicker offshoots of the massive branch they were all standing on, loosening it so that he could tear it off for a new club. Yet, as always, his voice resonated so that everyone could hear. "Aw, come on, Jet. We weren't doing that bad. Sure, they were more of them than us, and lots of stuff was on fire, but we've handled that before. Heck, we saved the Avatar in a fix just like this."

Jet whirled to face the larger Freedom Fighter. His jaw was working like he wished he had something to chew on. "First of all, _that_ was about twenty guys, with only one Firebender, and we had help from a couple of the Benders we were saving. _This_ was about _thirty_ Firebenders, _with more on the way_, and if that Oni guy wasn't a Master, then I'm a Waterbender. _Second_, it doesn't matter if we could have won. They're shooting long-range fireballs, from a catapult or something, deep enough into the forest to be a danger to the base. If they haven't already had a direct hit, then that piece of the forest is still going up right about now."

Everyone, even Pipsqueak, was now staring at him. The Duke was the first to speak. He sniffled and in a low voice asked, "So what does that mean, Jet?"

"It means we lost. For good," said Sneers. He was as still as the tree they all stood on.

Jet nodded. "It's over. The only thing we can do for now is get to the treehouses and try to save as many people as we can. The Fire Nation is burning this forest, and all we can do is get everyone out of here. Longshot, Smellerbee, you go back to base. Start the retreat. Try to make for the east river; we've had dry weather lately, so it will be shallow enough for you to walk in, and that will help protect you as the forest goes up. The rest of us will go back and draw off the Firebenders. We'll peel off as we can and meet up with you somewhere along the river."

He ran a hand through his hair. "Don't wait for us. Once you're on the way, don't stop. If we catch up, we'll figure things out from there. If not…" He looked Smellerbee in the eyes, and then Longshot. A smirk brought a little life back to his face. "Well, people aren't thinking of anything good when they trail off while speaking like that."

"Jet," whispered The Duke. "I don't want to be homeless again. It's _hard_."

The first Freedom Fighter at his side was Pipsqueak. "Don't worry," he intoned, pushing a smile onto his face. "While we're all here, we can make wherever we go like a home. You know, like, people are more important, even if you're living out in the rain? I think I heard that somewhere."

"What Pip's trying to say," Jet broke in, crouching next to The Duke and putting an arm around him, "is that it won't be hard with all of us to take care of each other. And I promise I'll get us all out of this, no matter what it takes. Remember, we're _the Freedom Fighters_."

Smellerbee, Longshot, and Sneers all nodded.

"Okay." Jet stood up, and drew his hook swords. "Let's get back into action, Freedom Fighters."

**TO BE CONTINUED**


	5. The Price of Freedom

**The Price of Freedom**

Commander Oni expected to have to hunt the fugitives down, so he was pleasantly surprised when four of them dropped right out of the sky onto his head.

Rather, they were aiming for his head, but Oni saw their shadows quickly drawing near him and reflexively sprung back.

When the terrorists had first fled, Oni put his helmet on and rallied as many Firebender Scouts as he could to pursue them. Now that he had flushed them out, there was no hiding. He could draw a line on a map between their last known position and the section of the forest that Commander Fei's previous investigations had narrowed down as the general location of the terrorist base, and now it was a simple matter of spreading Firebenders out and dropping the metaphorical net.

Perhaps that was why some of the troublemakers had turned around to fight again. They knew the futility and wanted to die while still struggling to live. Oni appreciated that for two reasons: it implied a certain personal strength he respected, and it would also make killing them that much more _exquisite_.

Oni most enjoyed it when his victims thrashed and writhed in their final moments.

The oldest boy, the tenacious one with the bush of hair and the hook swords, was attacking in the next instant, using the alternating-arm style that allowed for a constant flurry of strikes. As much as he would have liked to set the boy on fire right then and there, Oni was forced on the defensive, and then, before he realized what was going on, one of the sword strikes dipped lower than expected, the hook of the blade catching the Firebender's armored ankle and yanking.

Oni's feet flew up. The rest of him fell hard to the ground. The blade of the second sword quickly followed the same plummeting path as the Firebender's head.

Only a quick jerk brought Oni's helmet in line to deflect the blade, but it still hit hard enough to ring the metal around Oni's skull. Good thing the commander wasn't traveling alone; around ten Firbender Scouts chose that excellent moment to attack the rebel. They didn't actually hit him with their fireballs, but that was okay.

Oni had demonstrated his superiority when he revealed the trap and the bombing of the forest. He was looking forward to killing the leader himself, now.

Then they would all die.

* * *

Maybe it was because The Duke always had to plan out all his attacks against the much larger and more numerous foes, but he never got so absorbed in a battle that he didn't keep his head. Maybe that was why he wasn't as good a fighter as Jet. (Well, that, and Jet was a lot older than him, but still.) Sometimes, though, his ability to think really helped him out.

While Jet, Sneers, and Pipsqueak all laid into Oni's Firebenders with all their fury, The Duke had hidden himself after the initial attack. The Firebenders weren't going out of their way to light the forest around them on fire this time, so The Duke was able to crouch in the brush and watch as the enemy put all their futile focus on fighting the bigger Freedom Fighters. When he thought he saw a good opening, he would leap out at one of the soldiers, trip them with his staff, and them give the best pummeling he was capable of handing out.

While he was hiding, waiting for one of those fun moments, a thought occurred to him. What had happened to the cart with the barrels that had lured the Freedom Fighters into this trap?

Maybe it was just a fake, something to get Jet to come out and fight. But what if it wasn't?

The Duke wondered if he should tell someone. The others looked pretty busy, trying not to die.

* * *

Longshot and Smellerbee were running like the wind, and it still wasn't fast enough.

They stuck to the treetops, easier to navigate than the forest floor, at least for anyone used to traveling across the branches. Both Freedom Fighters were light and agile enough to really go at a run, leaping and landing again and again without stopping. Longshot even employed a trick he usually kept reserved for safer, more leisurely conditions; shooting rope-tied arrows to create makeshift swing points that would carry him and Smellerbee over gaps and up inclines. He usually stood still for those kind of shots and aimed carefully.

Now, he was shooting as he ran, and one time even as he was jumping midair.

Longshot wasn't a show-off, but he would have liked to see Smellerbee's reaction to that move. He was too busy to look at her, and she was too focused to do anything but take advantage of his skill.

They still weren't fast enough. They could hear the crashes as the flaming boulders landed ahead of them in the forest. They probably shouldn't have been able to tell, but Longshot almost thought he could maybe place the distance as right around where the Freedom Fighters' treehouse homes were.

Then the noise was interrupted by the unmistakable roar of Firebending.

The two Freedom Fighters didn't even have to work to dodge. They were moving fast enough that a slight twitch of their bodies let their momentum carry them in diverging tumbles. While that wasn't always a good idea in a tree, they had more than enough practice at it. Longshot had been with Jet for years, living in the treehouse base, and learning the ways of walking the canopy.

Smellerbee had been there even longer than him.

He caught her eye, and nodded forward. She had to keep going.

Smellerbee was eager to get moving again, dancing from foot to foot, but she didn't take off just yet. "Not without you. Jet said we should get them out together."

Longshot shook his head, looked purposefully down at where the Firebending had come from, and drew an arrow. The others might have been keeping the main force occupied, but apparently there were more enemies spread throughout the forest.

"All right," Smellerbee grumbled, "but you better catch up. I'm not leaving this forest unless you're right there beside me."

Longshot smiled at her, and then she was gone.

They could have tried outrunning the Firebenders, but why risk further delays if they couldn't shake these very effective new soldier types? Longshot had to take care of them.

He had to keep Smellerbee safe.

So he stepped off his branch and dropped like a rock. The rushing air was moving a little too fast for him to do his normal breathing, slow and in time with his archery, but that didn't keep Longshot from doing what he did best. Certainly, he had worked to refine his skill with the bow and arrow, to learn the good habits of the best marksmen, but that wasn't all there was to his ability. He also happened to be born with a real affinity for archery. It was almost freakish. So as he fell, he fired two arrows at a time, aiming for any color that didn't look like it belonged, any movement that could have been a person moving. He didn't have the luxury of using minimal force, of making sure he was aiming at a human and not a hog monkey.

He just kept shooting.

When the ground came dangerously close, Longshot fired one last arrow, one of those with a rope tied to it. As soon as it had buried itself in a thick tree trunk, he held on to the cord and let it turn his fall into a swinging, skidding arc along the ground.

Longshot stood up, straightened his hat, and looked around.

He saw arrows, and Firebenders, but no movement at all.

Another grappling arrow brought him back up to the treetops. Soon he was back on the path home.

He and Smellerbee had to go save the surviving orphans, if there were any. Who knew how long Jet and the others would last? And it hadn't escaped Longshot's notice that all the Freedom Fighters' scouts who had been sent out to keep a watch on Oni's army had both failed in their job and not been seen since the start of the attack.

Very little escaped Longshot's notice at all.

* * *

It just wouldn't end, and now the forest was on fire around them again.

Pipsqueak had originally landed like a bomb amidst a group of Firebenders, his strength exploding in a flurry of slaps and poundings that knocked the whole group off their feet. As a big guy, Pipsqueak knew that when it came to tempting targets, he was a like a traveling silk merchant who was too cheap to hire any guards, so no sooner were his targets down than he was hightailing it out of there. Of course, that same size was also very useful resource. Although his initial retreating dash wasn't very quick, he could use his strong arms to pull himself back up into the tree branches with the speed and force of a primate. Fireballs chased him into the leafy sky, but Pipsqueak knew how to vary his path, and use the gigantic trees to obscure his own large frame.

Jet had taught him how to strike and fade like that.

Back before Pipsqueak had found the Freedom Fighters, he had a real home, a quiet little village out in the middle of nowhere. No settlement, though, was too small for the Fire Nation. The locals put together a militia, and even though he was somewhat young for it, Pipsqueak's size and strength made him a natural recruit. Muscles that had been honed by pulling carts and hauling feed on the farms were taught how to wield a weapon. He was to be a battering ram against the enemy's lines, drawing and dealing punishment like a machine.

It hadn't made a difference. The Fire Army had advanced faster than anticipated, and a commando squad struck in the night before anyone even knew the enemy had arrived. The entire militia was captured without a fight. The whole population of the village was arrested and sent to work in the mines.

Pipsqueak had lasted a week digging up coal. After a week of watching the suffering of everyone he cared for, he found the strength to break his chains and run.

By the time he found Jet, there was no one left to save. The main Earth Kingdom forces had struck at the mine while Pipsqueak was gone, and "denied the asset" to the Fire Nation. Pipsqueak couldn't even find out if any of the prisoners had been freed.

It was Jet's tactics that Pipsqueak used now. He stayed in the tree tops, where the air was so hot that it almost hurt to breath, and the leaves of the trees hid him with the Fire Nation's own colors. They sent fireballs up where they thought Pipsqueak was, and in turn he sent back flaming chunks of wood that weighed as much as an armored Firebender. Pipsqueak had been playing this game for a while now, abandoning a tree only when its burning became too much to handle, and he had completely lost track of time. Sometimes, fighting seemed to last longer than it really did, but this round was easily the longest he had ever kept fighting in one stretch. Jet had led him, Sneers, and The Duke back to keep the Firebenders from chasing Longshot and Smellerbee, but he hadn't discussed when it would be safe to break away again.

Finally, the fireballs had petered out to a mere handful, and Pipsqueak decided that it was time to finish this. Taking his club up again, the big Freedom Fighter dropped to the ground with enough force to give it a bit of a shake, and closed the distance to the enemy. He dodged around fireballs, and stayed close to the enemy soldiers so that their fellows couldn't attack without risking burning them, too. He hit as hard as he could, making sure that the enemy wouldn't be getting back up anytime soon.

One final swing of his club scattered the last pair of Firebenders, temporarily clearing this patch of forest of conscious opponents, and then his focus was broken by the shout of one of his friends.

"Pipsqueak! I'm climbing up!"

The big Freedom Fighter felt a little body pull its way up his clothes to perch itself on one of his shoulders. He looked up at The Duke. "What's up, buddy?"

"I think we need to go find that cart with the barrels."

It took Pipsqueak a second to remember what the kid was talking about. "The thing that led us into this trap? Why?"

The Duke pushed his helmet up a little, to reveal a face tight with worry. "What if it wasn't just bait?"

Pipsqueak would be the first to admit that he was a slow thinker, but that didn't mean he was stupid at all. Now that The Duke had shown him the path, it wasn't hard to follow it to all kinds of unpleasant imaginations. "All right, how do we find it?"

"It was in the dry riverbed, remember? We can follow that."

"But," Pipsqueak said, "what about Jet and Sneers? We can't just leave them."

The Duke's jaw dropped. He was a real smart kid, but that apparently hadn't occurred to him, yet.

"Go," said a husky voice.

Pipsqueak turned to see Sneers behind him. The quiet Freedom Fighter's own clothes and armor sported quite a few new black spots, but he himself looked uninjured. "You sure? What about Jet?"

Sneers glanced over to where Jet had disappeared deeper into the forest, chasing that Commander Oni and his personal guard. "I'll help him. If The Duke is right, this is more important than killing Firebenders."

The Duke leaned forward on Pipsqueak's shoulder to reach for Sneers. "Be okay."

Sneers held up his own hands for The Duke to clasp, and nodded. He said, "I promise, Jet and I will look out for each other. It's what Freedom Fighters do. Now you have to look out for us."

"Which way?" Pipsqueak asked.

The Duke pointed, and the big Freedom Fighter took off in a run, his little buddy holding onto his shoulder.

* * *

Smellerbee arrived to find the Freedom Fighters' base in flames. It was also in pieces, as though it had taken a direct hit. The pieces were recognizable, so it probably hadn't taken more than one.

Probably.

But she couldn't see anyone in the smoke and fire.

The whole base had been built with the main platform, and Jet's hut, as the central piece, constructed amidst the branches of the oldest and widest tree. It was large enough to accommodate other homes and hideaways as well, but as time passed and more kids joined the Freedom Fighters, they had expanded to the thinner trees around them, sometimes building platforms to connect two trunks. Ropes for climbing, swinging, and sliding had made navigating possible from differing heights, and wobbly bridges were used to create long thoroughfares over wide empty spaces.

Now, it was all ruined. The main tree was still standing, but its various huts were all on fire. Its platforms, treated so that cooking accidents weren't a major hazard, were still unburned, but the ropes and bridges that spun out from them were gone or ripped in half. Some of the smaller trees on the periphery were broken, others still standing, for now, but burning brightly. The brush all down below was completely aflame, issuing black smoke that rose to obscure the whole treehouse village.

It was a good thing Longshot wasn't here for this. He was a great person, reliable, and the best listener ever, but he was kind of a softie. He wouldn't deal well with the worst of the ways this could go. Smellerbee stood on the main platform, just beside Jet's burning hut, and shouted, "Is anyone still alive?"

Weak cries answered her.

She headed towards the closest ones, coming from where the cooking firepit was supposed to be. Now, it was a pile of stone and wood. The pit itself was completely buried beneath the shelving and stacked supplies that were kept around it. Somehow, a slab of stone that served as part of the cooking pit's foundation had landed on top of the mess, and Smellerbee couldn't help but wonder how badly things had been shaking for such a heavy object to be tossed in the air while everything else fell around it.

Of course, Smellerbee was a thin, fairly small girl who couldn't hope to lift a stone like that, but she didn't hesitate or worry about it. She had other options.

Smellerbee drew her largest sword from the sheath on her back. Like most of the Freedom Fighters' equipment, it had been stolen from the Fire Nation, and, as such, it had a special capability that Smellerbee didn't often get to use. The sword was a _stonebreaker_, specially designed not just to stab and cut people, but to smash and chop through weaker rocks, and resist shattering when struck by the strongest stones. The slab from the cooking pit had always looked pretty solid, but it had just been bounced around like a rice wafer in a stolen picnic basket. Smellerbee picked out a spot that looked like it was supporting too much weight, and brought her sword down in a two-handed swing.

Several swings later, the slab was cracked in half, and Smellerbee's sword was none the worse for wear.

"Come on," she said as she began digging at the pile of broken wood pieces. "Whoever's under there, I'm getting you out."

* * *

Sparkrocks was mostly aware of the smell of smoke and the occasional large crash somewhere in the nearby forest, but she slowly began to discern something else- the sound of a friendly voice. Pieces of wood and stone and clay shifted above her, and gloved hands snaked around to grab her by the armpits and pull.

Sparkrocks emerged from the ruins of the cooking area. She looked into a face that was smudged with ash and dirt, with three stripes of red war paint on each cheek. "Smellerbee!"

The Freedom Fighter nodded, and stared into the younger girl's eyes. "Are you okay? Anything hurting? If you can stand, we really need you to. This whole place is a complete hazard now."

Now that she mentioned it, Sparkrocks became aware of plenty of bruises and scrapes, starting at her head and working down to the very tips of her toes, but nothing that screamed of real owchies.

Then the memories hit. "Wait! We were inside when a big boom came down right outside the treehouse! Me and Hibachi were cooking when the place shook apart on us! Did he-"

"I found him," Smellerbee cut in. She patted Sparkrocks's shoulders. "We have to focus on the people we know we can save."

It took Sparkrocks a second to understand what wasn't said. She looked back at the rubble she had just been dragged out of, and saw a battered rice hat lying at its edge, one chosen for its resemblance to the hat Longshot always wore.

"Come on," Smellerbee said softly, "I need your help to find more people. We all have to leave the base. Soon as possible."

* * *

If direct combat couldn't lead to Oni's defeat, then Jet was more than willing to cheat.

Between the skills of the Commander himself and the help of his so-called elite Firebender Scouts, Jet hadn't been able to bring a satisfying end to the guy despite all his best efforts. So he had taken to the trees, climbing one of the trunks with stabs of his hook swords' spiked handles faster than he ever had before, dodging fireballs long enough to disappear into the leaves.

So far, swooping down on Oni had failed twice. For the third and hopefully final attempt, Jet was going to mix things up a little.

He stepped out from his hiding place, and sure enough the fireballs were back in the air quick enough. Jet dodged casually, waiting for the right-

Ah, there it was.

One of the fireballs struck the long branch Jet had been standing on right where it grew out from the trunk. Jet hadn't been idle while he was hiding. He had been sawing diligently at that branch with his swords (they were going to need a lot of extra care after this battle), stopping just short of cutting the thing off completely. The fireball had finished the job.

The burning branch began to plummet, but Jet wasn't with it. He jumped just before it began its fall, hooked a sword at the thick branch just above his head, and hung on for dear life.

The long, burning branch crashed into even more branches as it fell, knocking them loose and setting fire to them as well.

A lot of burning wood wound up dropping on the heads of all the Firebenders who had been looking to cook Jet.

_Now _the Freedom Fighter let himself drop, swords ready. He stepped carefully towards the burning rubble, looking to verify that a set of commander's armor was amidst the blaze, preferably twisting in agony.

He barely heard the footsteps in time.

Jet knew an attack was coming in the space of an instant, and did his best to twist out of the way, but bodies move so much _slower_ than thought, and he watched with drawn out dread as Commander Oni came flying towards him in flaming jump kick.

The blow landed on his hip, hard enough to elicit a cry of pain from Jet, hot enough to be felt even through the scavenged armor he wore on that side. That armor probably saved him from a horrible burn scar. Instead, it hurt like crazy and sent Jet stumbling at something approaching a respectable run. He came to halt when he crashed chest-first into a tree, and the breath exploded out of his lungs and wouldn't come back. The air was too hot, too smoky, to obey his frantic gasps.

Oni was approaching from behind. Jet willed himself to get up, but his body just wouldn't obey without the necessary air.

The Firebender commander didn't even bother summoning a flame. He drew an armored foot back for what looked like a truly impressive kick-

Sneers tackled the man the floor and slammed his palm into Oni's face.

* * *

They found the cart, empty, right near the geysers.

Pipsqueak and The Duke crouched in the bushes beside the geyser-pocked slope, watching as Fire Nation soldiers carried barrels to each of the steaming vents. "Hey, The Duke, what are they doing?"

The smaller boy shrugged. "I dunno. Maybe they want to use the geysers to launch the barrels like a catapult?"

Pipsqueak was silent while he pictured that. "Would that work?"

"I really don't think so."

"I say we stop 'em, anyway," Pipsqueak whispered.

"Okay."

With surprise on their side, they beat the soldiers in under a minute. Granted, there were only six of them, and Pipsqueak was in that special zone of hurt where the fatigue and pain had lasted long enough to make him stronger and angrier.

"What's going on here?" the big Freedom Fighter had bellowed at the last conscious soldier. He was holding the man up by his chest armor, feet dangling a few inches above the ground.

"The R- Rice Counter… er, I mean, Lieutenant Gokoku… he or- ordered us to b- bomb this place."

Pipsqueak glared at the man. "What."

The soldier nodded convulsively. "He wa- wanted us to place the b- barrels of blasting j- jelly in the geysers and- and set them off. He w- wanted an earthquake. To- to keep any of your r- rebels from escaping the forest. Oni thought it c-couldn't hurt to try."

Pipsqueak looked down at his companion. "Would that work?"

The Duke twisted his face into a grimace. "I really don't think so. We get little shakes around these geysers all the time anyway. It's just trapped gases that make them shoot water. Blowing them up would just wreck this place, not earthquake the whole forest."

Pipsqueak looked back up at the soldier. "That's the dumbest idea I've ever heard." Then he knocked the man unconscious with one whack. "All right, The Duke. What do we do with our new blasting jelly?"

The Duke thought about it, and then his face lit up at the idea that came to him. "Something really good. But you're gonna have to run again. A lot of running."

**TO BE CONTINUED**


	6. The Last Stand of the Freedom Fighters

**The Last Stand of the Freedom Fighters**

Jet was tired, and was trying to figure out how to escape this fight without someone dying.

The Freedom Fighters' leader was standing in a defensive stance, swords angled to face Commander Oni, trying desperately to catch his breath. Even though the immediate foliage wasn't on fire yet, the air was heavy with the corrosive odor of smoke. Ash floated on the wind, chased by those ever-plentiful red leaves. Rain and cold couldn't dislodge them from their branches, but fire? Fire was working just fine. What survived of this forest, if anything, would be bare for the first time in one hundred years.

One way or another, Jet knew he wouldn't be here to see it.

Behind Oni, Sneers was poised to attack like a cat-owl. If he was having trouble breathing, he wasn't showing it yet.

They had both been engaged with Oni, and the fighting hadn't been any easier with Sneers and Jet working as a team. Sneers was limited to hand-to-hand combat, and that was especially dangerous when dealing with a Firebender. How well could blocking work when the enemy's blows were covered in fire? Sneers could only dodge as a defense, and Oni's armor protected him from most simple punches and kicks. Unfortunately, that armor still didn't seem to slow the Firebender down at all, and he was more than comfortable with close brawling.

Take that first attack Sneers had made against Oni when he saved Jet. Sneers had knocked the Firebender off his feet and struck his face with a hard palm strike, but it hadn't even stunned Oni. Sneers had scrambled away before the Fire Nation commander could make any attacks of his own, but Oni was back on his feet and in a stance instantly.

By then, Jet had been standing again, too.

He couldn't attack with the same speed and fury as before, not when he was this tired, and definitely not with Sneers in the mix of things. It seemed that no matter how much effort Jet put into the fight, how much of his anger he tried to run on, Oni was able to meet it and overpower it. Jet, however, still had more than enough strength and accuracy to be dangerous, and knew himself to be clever in ways the Fire Nation only wished it could be.

Jet tried to wait for Oni to make his own attacks, and take advantage of the openings to land a fatal or debilitating blow on the Firebender, but it just didn't work. Oni had the advantage on range, height, and defense, and, if anything, the continued fighting was giving him more energy. He didn't even seem bothered by the air quality. He dodged and deflected Jet's swords with his armored gauntlets, and met Sneers' attempts at attacks with punches and kicks of his own, except Oni's didn't actually have to connect to do any damage. One kick tossed out a flare of flame that quickly died, but did so with a burst that sent a shockwave through the air.

Jet came in and swung both of his swords low at the single foot Oni was standing on, but the Firebender must have anticipated the attack because the leg that had been outstretched in the kick continued smoothly back towards the ground. When the foot stomped down on the forest floor, a wave of fire sprung out, igniting the fallen leaves around it and pushing them up into the air. Jet found his attack faltering as flaming debris and ash flew into his face, but he kept his head and swung out of the way as Oni punched out another fireball.

Sneers had maneuvered behind Oni by then, and his gaze met Jet's in the quiet moment between the fighting. Jet took the opportunity to try to get his breathing under control, to take a moment to rest his muscles before going all out one more time.

Red leaves and ash continued to tumble on the winds around them.

* * *

It was pathetic, really. Here Oni was, a teenager in front of him and a teenager behind him, fighting the pair like there were real soldiers. Like many of the brave defenders of the Earth Kingdom, the two were very skilled, and dedicated to their task. They were probably trying to buy time for the rest of their insurgent band. They were both also trying very much to kill him. The pair was fighting out of anger, out of desperation, and as good as they were, they were still just children.

Oni looked forward to killing them both.

The one in front of Oni, with the hook swords, matched descriptions of the rebels' field commander. He was called, at least during field operations, "Jet." The other boy, sneaking up behind Oni with a respectable but futile degree of stealth, was only sketchily profiled, but "Jet" had referred to him as something that sounded like "Sneers" during this skirmish.

Jet, of course, led the attack. He moved forward to just within attack range and swung one of his swords on a horizontal arc. Oni took a step back, letting the hooked blade pass right in front of him, and held back from leaping on the ragged teenager. He wanted to end this, to break that boy in his grip and finish this operation, but Oni was a professional, and, by waiting now, he would be able to kill both rebels more efficiently.

That was what this whole operation was about. Other people, like the Rice Counter with his ridiculous manmade-earthquake plan, chased uncertainty and let circumstances rule the field of battle. Oni, rather, sought mastery. He took control of every variable, including the very field of battle, and used direct force to push everything into a winning combination.

There was cost, of course. There was even pain.

That's what made victory all the more delicious.

Frustrated, Jet came in closer, both his swords swinging in alternating waves. Jet was obviously trying to overwhelm him, forcing them closer in range in what was probably an attempt to distract from whatever Sneers was going to do. Oni obliged, ducking some slices, and letting others deflect jarringly off his armored forearms. Close now, Jet's eyes flared, and he flipped his right sword around into a reverse-grip. Oni realized that his last deflection had raised his left arm up and out, leaving him vulnerable.

Jet rammed the spiked handle-guard of his reversed sword straight into Oni's side. The short, strong spikes punched straight through the armor there, and Oni felt them sink into his flesh with a hammer blow.

Oh yes, there was pain.

The Firebender grinned at Jet, and brought his left arm back down against his side, sinking the spikes even deeper. An extra wave of hurt ripped through his chest, and it was possible that the spikes were scraping bone.

Most importantly, the handle of Jet's sword- along with his hand itself- was now trapped under Oni's left arm. The Firebender brought his right arm up, and even though he lacked the breath to summon any fire, he had more than enough strength to deliver a palm strike to Jet's chin.

The teenage rebel rocked back, losing his grip on his trapped sword and stumbling away.

Weakling.

Oni had to move quickly now, from what he could hear. He relaxed his left arm again and grabbed the sword that was stuck in his side. It slid out easily, the spikes obviously smooth and well maintained. Ignoring the pain that a fresh influx of oxygen brought to the wounds, Oni established a proper grip on the sword, spun around, and swung the hook blade in a low arc that raised it up into a diagonal slice.

It caught Sneers precisely where he wasn't armored, the hook catching the boy in his chest with a meaty squelch.

The filthy teenager's face went slack, the color draining. Oni just grinned with triumph, brought his other arm up to get a strong two-hand grip on the sword, and _yanked_.

This was what he lived for:

Death to the enemies of the Fire Nation.

* * *

Jet blinked as his stolen sword pulled a splash of blood out of Sneer's chest. His friend instantly dropped to the ground, soundlessly as ever. The damage that had been wrought was plainly obvious, even from where Jet was standing. Blood quickly began soaking Sneers' clothes and the ground beneath him, the same color as the smoldering leaves that fell around the fallen Freedom Fighter.

Jet snarled and threw his other sword, spiked-bottom-first, at Oni's head.

The Firebender dodged, almost as if he had been expecting the action, making half a step to the side. He gave Jet an ugly smile, and carelessly threw the other sword- tinted red- the ground.

Jet realized he was alone, and unarmed, against a Firebender. An injured Firebender, but Jet had his own hurts.

He had to avenge Sneers. Jet breathed deeply, and let the anger flare anew in his chest. It was a feeling that could lead him anywhere, past all pain and concern to whatever goal he chose. Right now, he chose to make this monstrous Firebender die.

Jet was ready to give it his all, and fall beside his oldest friend that if that's what it took, when horns sounded once again in the forest. It was a full chorus, some disturbingly close, some coming from a distance. It seemed that there were still plenty of Firebenders out there.

With that sound, Jet realized that he and Oni weren't the only ones fighting in this forest right now. The rest of the Freedom Fighters, hopefully, were out there. Perhaps they needed Jet. Perhaps they'd be better off without him.

Jet had to decide if finding out was the price he wanted to pay for Sneers' vengeance.

When Oni turned back, having shifted his attention to the signals, Jet was gone. He had disappeared into the burning forest.

* * *

There hadn't been a formal count of the orphans in the Freedom Fighters' care in a _long_time, but putting the number at around thirty, maybe a little more, wouldn't have been inaccurate.

Smellerbee and Longshot led six kids out of the burning wreckage that had once been the home base of the Freedom Fighters. They didn't know how many Jet had sent out that morning as scouts and spies, nor had they found all the bodies of the suspected dead. They had done their best to search everywhere that was still standing.

That had been before. Behind them now, even the trees that had once supported the treehouses were collapsing to the ground in flames.

The group moved forward. Longshot and Smellerbee both had their weapons out and ready, just in case any Firbenders were still sniffing around. Sparkrocks, clutching a battered rice hat, led the other kids behind him.

Everyone could have used a hug at that point, but there was no time.

There was a whistling sound above, and Smellerbee quickly turned to the kids. "Get down on the ground! Incoming!"

Everyone dropped to the dirt and hugged themselves. As such, no one saw where the massive fireball landed, but they all heard the impact and felt the earth shudder beneath them. A few of the children tumbled were they crouched, but no one was hurt.

Still crouched, Smellerbee turned to Longshot. "We're going to have a lot of trouble getting through here. Those things are just going to keep slowing us down, never mind the fires they're starting. What are we going to do?"

As usual, Longshot didn't have anything to say.

* * *

Pipsqueak supposed he must have looked pretty funny. He was running as fast as he could go, pushing a cart full of barrels of blasting jelly, and he wouldn't have been surprised to learn that he was frothing at the mouth.

He was as far beyond tired as the entire Earth Kingdom was beyond the local mud hole. Pipsqueak had started running back at the geysers, as soon and he and The Duke had loaded the barrels back onto the cart. He was quick enough in battle, but he was far from the fastest Freedom Fighter. Still, he had one advantage. It took a while to get his bulk moving at a decent speed, but once he did, he had a lot of momentum going for him. Sometimes he hopped on the back of the cart and let it speed along by itself, especially on the downhill parts of the path. As soon as he felt the cart slow, he was back on the ground, legs pumping like they never had before.

He had no energy left in him. At this point, even _stopping_ would have required too much effort. So he kept running, and marveled at this feeling of detachment, like being a passenger in his own body. He almost missed it when The Duke called from atop the cart.

"I see it! Get ready to let go!"

Let go? What was the kid talking about? Then the memory of the plan came back to him, and he realized he had a bigger part than just playing komodo rhino.

The Duke had spent the whole trip wiring the barrels of blasting jelly, putting together one of those complicated fuses that the kid was so good at. He said he had to get the timing just right, or else the Firebenders would be able wreck things. That was typical. Firebenders were always wrecking things.

"Okay… getting close… just at the top of this hill… _Now!_" The Duke's final shout came as he leaped off the back of the cart.

Pipsqueak let go, and let then himself drop to the ground in a heap.

* * *

Bombardment had been proceeding apace. Commander Oni had ordered continuous firing throughout the day, with as much of a spread over the Southeastern quadrant of the forest as possible. Sub-Commander Bukku had overseen the operation with his usual diligence, making sure that the trebuchets were firing in staged, regular intervals, and that ammo was kept in ready supply. Bukku had personally supervised the shift transfers of the various crews, making sure they staggered the changes so that only one trebuchet at a time was out of operation.

Bukku had served under Oni for some years now, and while the commander had his own reputation for effectiveness, Bukku liked to believe that the man's success came on the backs of his ever-reliable subordinates. Oni was not particularly adept at the more subtle arts of war, such managing morale or cultivating political support, and any military would collapse without perceptive administrators who could manage the day-to-day issues.

Still, it was quite clever of the Commander to have the larger buildings in Gaipan rebuilt into siege weapons. Keeping the outer walls in place as shields, soldiers had demolished the innards and rebuilt them into trebuchets that could do a proper job of setting the forest ablaze. Any attacks on the town would not only have to get through the outer walls and into the town, but then would have to attack each individual siege-building in order to halt the bombardment.

The insurgents never could have accomplished such a thing, and having civilians underfoot would have made the whole operation impossible. No doubt about it, serving Commander Oni had its own perks for a military-minded individual.

But what was this commotion by the gates, now?

Bukku walked over the forest-side gate, to see what the two guards were standing in the middle of the road and conversing about. The town had no doors on its gate, so sentries were kept on station for the duration of the bombardment. "Report, soldiers!"

Both men bowed. One said, "There appears to be a cart approaching the gate. We were just discussing what to do about it."

"A cart?" Bukku took his spyglass from his belt and aimed it up the road. Sure enough, a cart loaded with barrels was tumbling towards the town. "Nothing's drawing it, and there's no one aboard. I think it's probably nothing, just the detritus of a merchant group that got caught in the forest during our operations, but let's be sure. Stop it here at the gate."

"Sir!" Both men bowed again.

The cart still had a good speed when it got there, but the three soldiers were able to bring it to a halt. It seemed to be just a simple cart, but there was an odd hissing sound coming from inside. As one of the guards climbed aboard to investigate, Bukku felt a memory nagging at him. "Isn't this the cart that was sent out for the geyser operation? There's still enough jelly here to level a shipyard. Now what happened to-"

That's when the hissing stopped.

* * *

The Duke watched as the entire town of Gaipan exploded, and the earth beneath it slid down the slope to the river. He hoped that the Fire Nation had gotten all the people out. He had helped to flood that occupied town not too long ago, but if that was what drove Aang and his friends away, then it had to be more complicated than Jet said. Right now, though, The Duke had to stop all the fireballs attacking the treehouse.

All that was left was to wake up Pipsqueak. "Come on, big guy, we have go find Jet and Sneers!"

* * *

Smellerbee and Longshot didn't know what had happened, but the rest of their trip to the south river was easy and clear. They had to go around forest fires a few times, and later on, put away their weapons and carried some of the kids, but they made it long before the sun began setting, with no more fireballs falling out of the sky, just crimson leaves and ash.

They never saw any Firebenders.

The group followed the river, through the burning forest, marching uphill against the soft knee-high current, and eventually left behind the fire, and soot, and trees. The ground became rocky, and they began searching for a place to spend the night.

Against the dark sky, the horizon glowed as the forest fire raged out of control.

The pair of Freedom Fighters divided up the duties. Smellerbee took charge of the kids, getting them to help set up a makeshift camp with what they had, and then went back to the river to see if she could catch any fish for dinner. Longshot stepped softly into the darkness and disappeared; every so often, the call of a mockingsnake would ring softly through the night.

Smellerbee came to where Sparkrocks was sitting at the campfire, holding a beat-up rice hat. "Hey, I caught some fish. Can you help me cook them? Everyone's getting pretty hungry."

Sparkrocks took a deep breath, and let it out with a long shudder. "We're supposed to cook together. Me and Hibachi." She slowly stood up, and put the rice hat on her head. "Yeah, okay. I'm okay. First, we'll need some sticks to mount the fish…"

Later, just before everyone went to sleep, another mockingsnake song sounded, and the mournful chirp of a ravengale answered it.

* * *

Jet had barely dragged himself to Longshot and Smellerbee's camp before he collapsed to the ground. He wasn't even able to speak. Longshot had simply raised an eyebrow at Sneers' absence, and Jet replied with a defeated shake of his head. Thankfully, the archer had been content with that answer for the time being, but Longshot was always reliable like that. Jet hadn't even bothered with food once he found himself on the dusty ground, and simply let exhaustion claim him.

He was the last to wake up the next morning, roused by the sounds of the other survivors getting up to greet the dawn. Jet sat where he woke up, and found himself at a loss. What should he do now? Talk with Smellerbee and Longshot, and take control of this little group? The problem was that any action would involve making plans, and for once, Jet had no plan at all. They had survived the Fire Nation, and he could feel the ghost of his anger wailing within, demanding revenge for Sneers, in addition to all the other people Jet had lost. The ghost's sepulchral tune, though, was an old one, and Jet was trying to figure out why he ever thought he could dance to it.

He was still just sitting there, with the sun above getting a good start across the murky blue sky, when Pipsqueak and The Duke found the rendezvous point.

The smaller of the pair took one look around, as soon as they arrived, and went straight for the most difficult question. "Where's Sneers?"

Jet turned to face the boy, and found the beginning of a motivation in his questioning gaze. "Sneers," he said, "didn't make it. He saved my life, but the fighting was too much even for both of us."

The Duke kept staring, as though he was waiting for something more. Jet tried to think what else he had to say to make this as painless as possible, but for once his mind failed him. He was so used to finding answers in the way people acted, picking up clues to the exact words that would leave them as putty in his Earth Kingdom hands, but he found only hurt in The Duke's expression.

It was Pipsqueak who broke the silence. His legs wobbled, and he sank to the ground where he stood. "How- how did it happen? If you can say. I just- it doesn't seem real." Pipsqueak's square face sagged downward in a profound frown, and his deep voice threatened to crack.

Jet noticed that Longshot and Smellerbee had arrived at the scene. The younger kids, at least, were keeping their distance. The leader of the Freedom Fighters turned back to his interrogators, and saw a thin river of tears running down each side of The Duke's face. Jet instantly recalled the feel of his own constant tears as he watched his first home burn and looked in the face of the Firebender who killed his parents.

"Sneers died fighting," he said. "We were double-teaming Oni, but the guy was just too good for us. He took my swords and turned them against Sneers, and there wasn't anything I could do to stop him, before or after."

"But you promised."

All eyes turned to The Duke, but Jet was the only person who held his interest. "You promised you'd get us all out of trouble. You promised, and sent us all to fight!"

Jet considered what to say to that, but really, there was only one possible answer. "I know. I'm sorry."

The Duke's reply was a single, whimpering growl. He tipped his helmet forward to cover his face, and sat down against Pipsqueak as though seeking warmth.

Smellerbee drew one her knives and brandished it in the morning air. "Some of us should go back. We can get revenge on Oni before we go wherever we're headed. They think we're gone or dead now, so we can sneak into town and hit him before they even know we're there."

Pipsqueak winced at that. "The town is gone. The Duke and I blew it up. I'm sorry, we- I didn't know we'd need to go back."

Jet sighed, and dismissed the bigger boy's concerns with a wave of his hand. "Don't worry about it. We wouldn't be going back anyway. There's nothing for us here."

Everyone but The Duke turned to look at him. Surprise lit up all of their eyes.

Jet couldn't take their gazes. He let his own eyes turn to the ground, and said, "I'm done with revenge. I thought it was something I'd always want, because I expected the anger to always be there." Jet looked back up, but not at any of his Freedom Fighters. He stared into the distance, where the young sun was having trouble penetrating the thick smoke where the forest still burned. The only color there was the glow of hidden flames, and it almost resembled the shine of sunlight off the undying red leaves. There wouldn't be any leaves left, now. Once thought perpetual, they had finally died. "Now, the only thing I feel is that I don't want any of you to get hurt."

He looked straight at The Duke, who was still hiding himself against Pipsqueak. "If I send of us back here," Jet said, "I'll be the one responsible if you get hurt. I'm responsible."

No one seemed to know what to say to that. After several long moments, Smellerbee finally found the courage to break the silence. "What about the Freedom Fighters, then? Do we just go find an army to join? Or find jobs and pretend we don't know how to fight?"

Jet considered that.

Not wanting to get his friends hurt was different from wanting someone else's life. Maybe this strange lack of anger was just a reaction to Sneers. Leaves came back every Spring, after all.

But only if the trees haven't been burned down.

Jet nodded. "We're refugees now. Maybe we should find others like us, see where they're going. We can protect them. Show them how to fight. Make sure they find what they're looking for. That's what I'm going to do. Anyone want to come?"

Smellerbee was the first to step forward. "I'll come," she said. "We're still your Freedom Fighters, Jet. You lead, and we'll follow."

Longshot glanced at her for a split second, and then stepped up beside her. He nodded at Jet, his expression soft.

Jet smiled back in gratitude. "That's two. Pipsqueak? The Duke?"

Pipsqueak still had tears in his eyes. The big teenager opened his mouth to talk, but his voice caught and he quickly closed it again.

Then The Duke piped up with, "I don't want to be a Freedom Fighter anymore."

Everyone stared at him, but he kept his face hidden. His voice was twisted with barely suppressed sobs, but the young boy kept it steady. "If Jet doesn't keep his promises, then I don't want to be his friend. I'm leaving." The Duke stood and, keeping his face hidden by his helmet, slowly walked away.

Pipsqueak hefted himself to his feet. "I'll watch out for him."

Jet looked at him with surprise. "You're hurt, and you've been walking all night."

"I'll manage," the bigger teenager grunted. He wrestled his face into a smile that Jet found almost as sad as his frown. "We can use each other's company."

Longshot stepped close, and handed Pipsqueak one of the Freedom Fighters' bandage kits. He must have scrounged it from the remains of their base. The archer looked his heavyset friend in the eyes, smiled, and said, "Good journey."

Pipsqueak nodded. "You, too." He exchanged a hug with Smellerbee, and then trotted off after The Duke. "Hey, wait up, buddy."

In the distance, The Duke stopped and waited.

Jet quietly sat still until Pipsqueak and The Duke were out of sight. Then he drew in a deep breath, took a long look at the dusty land around them, and clapped his hands together. "All right. We need to get some food for everyone's breakfast, and figure out where we're going, exactly. We need to find someplace safe as a new home for the little kids, and then we need to track down the refugee flows. And we can all probably use new weapons. We have a lot of work ahead of us, but that's what being a Freedom Fighter is all about, right?"

Smellerbee and Longshot nodded, and Jet found that the ghost in his heart had been replaced. It turned out that Purpose didn't feed exclusively on anger, after all.

He'd have to make it up to the Avatar, if he could. Katara, too. If they ever even met again. Jet resolved to do what he could in both respects.

It was all he could do.

**TO BE CONCLUDED**


	7. Epilogue

**Epilogue**

_The Old Man stood up off the rock, and motioned at it. "We came back, years later, and sunk this rock here as a memorial to the ones who died. This is about where the Freedom Fighters had their base. Roughly."_

_The children all looked at the rock with new reverence. Of course, even that didn't completely satisfy them. One little boy turned back to the Old Man. "What happened to them all?"_

_"Hm? Well, Jet, Smellerbee, and Longshot all found a home for the kids. A farming community at, oh, I guess it's around Mut Jjin Jali. There were families there willing to take the kids in. Which is probably what Jet should have done with them in the first place. That area rode out the rest of the war well enough._

_"Then the three Freedom Fighters went to Ba Sing Se, and had more adventures. Jet died fighting the corrupt forces of the Dai Li, and made peace with the Avatar and his followers. Longshot and Smellerbee survived the war, and wound up on a lotus farm, of all places, for a while. But they were always read to help and fight whenever the peace was threatened. And Sneers... hm. Well, even I can't know the whole story about some things."_

_He adjusted the helmet he wore on his head, pushing it back from his wrinkled face, before continuing. "The other two former Freedom Fighters got by as best they could, and then happened to find the Avatar themselves, after he got out of Ba Sing Se. They had their own adventures, helping him in the final battles of the war. The Duke even got to meet the new Fire Lord, the good one, Zuko."_

_The children all gave that varying expressions of credulity. The same little girl who first noticed the rock gave the Old Man an especially narrow-eyed stare. "You know more about The Duke's adventures?"_

_"Oh, yes. I guess you could say I'm an expert on him."_

_The children looked at him like he was trying to pull a joke on them, but if he noticed, he didn't say. "Any more questions?"_

_One girl in the back of the group raised a little hand. "What about Oni? Did you kill him?"_

_The Old Man sighed. "No. The Freedom Fighters completely lost track of him, actually. It was only a few years after the war ended that The Duke thought to ask. Fire Lord Zuko had answers, though. The injury that Jet gave Oni actually kept him out of the rest of the war, recuperating and fighting a lung infection. He was eventually sent back to the Fire Nation. Zuko started prosecuting the war criminals, and Oni was going to be one of the first trials, but he challenged Zuko to a fire duel over his right to even do such a thing against his own people. Zuko won the duel, and Oni was sent to a Fire Nation prison called the Boiling Rock. I hear it's a very nasty place. He tried to escape, and fell to his death in the boiling lake that surrounds it."_

_The Old Man smiled grimly. "That's actually my favorite part of the story, now that I think about it."_

_The first little girl spoke up again. "What's a war criminal?"_

_Little heads nodded support for the question._

_The Old Man waved his hands. "Come on, we can't keep sitting here all day, if we're going to get back by nightfall. Stand up, and I'll answer one last question."_

_The children got to their feet, some attempting to brush dirt of their pants, most not bothering. The fell into a comfortable line behind their guide, as he began speaking again. "Even in war, there are rules. Not everyone thinks so. Mostly, it's because good people make decisions about what is and isn't necessary to win a war, and they expect bad people to break them. Mostly, good people have a little trouble with the rules. But that's war for you."_

_The line meandered on into what was once a great forest. In due time, it might become one again. Even now, saplings were rising up out of the old, ash-fertilized ground. At the back of this procession, a boy in a battered rice hat decided that his opinion had to be heard. "I don't like that story. I like stories with real good guys who win."_

_The Old Man nodded. "Yes. Me, too."_

**END**

* * *

Author's Note: Special Thanks to Lavanya Six for generously serving as a beta reader for this story. Without her, it would have been a much weaker tale.


End file.
